Unknowns
by CharlotteBlackwood
Summary: A mysterious, unconscious girl turns up in the Forbidden Forest with only a name and a vague memory of a yellow room. She's beautiful, afraid, and Sirius is certain her brown eyes are supposed to be gray. When memories begin to return, how far will Sirius go to protect her? Very AU, SB/OC, LE/JP, NB/LM, DM/FP
1. Unknowns

**A/N: Yes. More stories. Good and bad news: I have a short break in courses. The bad news is, once they pick up again idk when I'll have time to update fan fiction, although I shall do my best. See below this story for special information on updates for this story!**

 **This story is being started because it was burning in me. If you read** _ **Delicious Dark**_ **or** _ **Second Chances**_ **, you might enjoy this.**

 **-C**

Sirius Black groaned his thanks to his best friend's fiancée for healing his wounds the best she could. Her kind green eyes were looking down at him with concern.

"But Sirius, what if it starts bleeding again?" she asked anxiously.

"Lily, I know how to reseal a wound," he said, smiling. "Anyway, I'm supposed to stay here to report to Dumbledore, so if it happens within the next hour, I won't have much time to bleed out before he can fix me up fully. Go back to James. He'll be anxious, you know."

She hesitated, but she obviously knew that he was right about James, because she kissed his sweaty forehead and left him alone on the headquarters sofa.

Sirius leaned his head back against the arm of the sofa wishing Dorcas had thought to put throw pillows on the sofa when she furnished the place. He contemplated transfiguring something, but he was just too tired. So maybe it had been stupid to throw himself in front of that curse when he didn't know what it was, but he didn't have time to think about it. He'd needed to protect Lily. James would never forgive Sirius if he allowed Lily to die before they could finally marry.

He closed his eyes, breathing steadily, pointedly through his nose, hoping that Dumbledore would be so anxious for the report that he would show up early.

/-/

Albus Dumbledore frowned at the body lying unconscious in Hagrid's hut, on the newly cleared-off table. The young woman was perhaps sixteen years old, but she was not one of his students. She had features that reminded him of someone, but he could not place her.

Dark brown hair the shade of the table beneath her was matted and messy, but bore evidence of being otherwise healthy and luxurious if it were properly groomed. Her skin was pale, without a single visible freckle, although some dirt was caked on her skin where she appeared to have fallen face first in mud from exhaustion. There was some bruising around her wrists, but she was so pale that Albus wondered if she had ever seen the sunlight before.

Her features were delicate, aristocratic, even, with high cheekbones and a thin, well-sculpted nose. Her chin was strong, just the right length, and although her lips were pale from cold, they were well-formed and just the right balance between strong and delicate. Thick black lashes fringed her closed eyelids, and full, strong eyebrows framed the brow bone. Albus could not say why, but he was sure that if she opened her eyes, they would be gray.

Her body was not as tall as he thought it ought to be, perhaps four inches shorter than he seemed to expect, and not exactly as lithe and thin as it should be. There was something off, wrong, about her, but he still could not place her, and so he did not know what it was.

"Tell me again, Hagrid," he said softly, "where you found her."

Hagrid proceeded to tell him about finding the girl, unconscious, on the outskirts of the forest when he went to feed the thestrals. He hadn't recognized her as a student, and when he tried to rouse her, she woke barely for a second and said something about needing to find her bed.

"The village?" Albus asked. "I do not know of anyone her age living in Hogsmeade."

"I can' think of anyone, Professor," Hagrid said earnestly.

Albus nodded. An unconscious girl presumably left on their doorstep. Who knew how long she had been there? And if she was not a student, but she was not a Muggle….

"No wand?"

"No, sir."

But she had seen Hogwarts, Hagrid had told him how she had muttered something about the castle as he had brought her back to his hut. She had seen Hogwarts, so she had to have magic. She must have been taught from home, then.

"I will take her to headquarters, Hagrid. You have done well."

Hagrid helped Albus to get her upright, and Albus carefully wrapped his arm around her waist before creating an illegal portkey to the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.

/-/

Sirius woke to the sound of Dumbledore muttering something, and he opened his eyes to see that Dumbledore was lowering what appeared to be a body to the floor. Sirius tried to sit up and see, but he groaned as his shoulder began to bleed again, just as Lily worried it would.

"I see not all went to plan," Dumbledore said his eyes twinkling with amusement as he touched his wand to Sirius's shoulder and sealed the wound up properly before checking Sirius for other injuries and healing them. "There, you should be well enough now to help me with this young woman."

Sirius stood, looking down at the body of what appeared to be a dead girl, but Sirius transfigured a pillow from a nearby magazine and Dumbledore levitated her to the sofa Sirius had previously been napping on.

"Who is she?" Sirius asked.

"Well, that is the question, Sirius. Hagrid found her in the woods. She is not a student, has no wand, but she certainly is not a Muggle."

Sirius couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something about this girl, something so familiar. The shade of her dirty hair, the slope of her nose, even the fact that he was almost certain from looking at her that she would have gray eyes if they were open. Her clothes were simple but well-made, and there was something chillingly familiar about the bruises on her wrists.

"What are we going to do with her?"

"We are going to help her, Sirius. Stay here, see what you can do about cleaning her while I see what we have left in our potions cupboard."

Sirius pulled out a handkerchief and wet it down with a wave of his wand. He could have probably cleaned her skin directly with his wand, but it seemed like a good way to wake and startle her.

Judging from the layers of mud he gently wiped away from her skin, he would guess that she had been in the forest for at least a few days. Her skin was still pale, flawless under the mud, apart from the bruised wrists. He'd cleaned her face and neck, and was just about to start on her arms when Dumbledore came back with several vials and a small bottle that Sirius didn't recognize. Sirius stood back from her as Dumbledore opened her mouth and carefully tipped in the potions in a very particular order.

Her breathing, which had been so light that Sirius still hadn't been certain she was alive, became more normal, so that Sirius could see her chest rising and falling. A bit of color returned to her lips, although her skin was otherwise still unnaturally pale. He could see her eyes moving rapidly beneath her closed lids, but she did not open her eyes.

"What do we do now?" he asked as Albus carefully healed the bruising on her wrists with a spell and some paste.

"Now we wait," Albus said firmly. "Come. Let's have a cup of tea while you tell me about your own injuries."

/-/

She opened her eyes slowly to find that she was not, where she expected to be, in a yellow room. She was instead in a room with pale cream walls, on an overstuffed plum sofa. She sat up and groaned with the stiffness of her body, and before she could become accustomed to this strange feeling, two men hurried into the room, one very old with kind blue eyes and an exceptionally long beard and hair, the other not much older than her with gray eyes like a storm and black hair that fell effortlessly about his aristocratic features. This man, he felt familiar, safe, but she didn't know why. She didn't know anything.

She began to feel a sharp sense of panic and her breathing became difficult, but the elderly man crossed to her and took her hand.

"Breathe deeply, my dear," he said gently, and she tried to do as he asked. "What is your name?"

"Catherine."

She did not know how it came to her so easily, but it did, rolling right off her tongue as though it had been there all her life. It must have been her name, then. He gave her an encouraging smile.

"Catherine what?"

"I…I don't know," she said as her vision blurred. She frantically searched for a name, any surname, that felt like it might be hers, but there was none. Breathing became labored again, and the younger man hurried across with a cup of tea, pressing it into her trembling hands. She drank it, and she knew almost instantly that they put something in it to calm her.

Breathing was easy again, but her vision was still blurred with tears.

"Where are you from?"

"I don't know," she said, gripping the cup more tightly.

"Your parents?"

"I…I don't remember."

Catherine, as she was beginning to think of herself, could feel a slight anxiety under the potion she had been given.

"Do you know how you got to be in the forest?"

Catherine didn't even recall that she had been in a forest. She tried to remember anything, any small thing, but she shook her head, touching her temple when she felt a slight ache.

"I…I was in a room, in a bed," she said softly. "My bedroom? I don't…. The walls were yellow, and there was a…a window beside me. I…. A lamp?" She frowned, rubbing her forehead. "I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"That's quite alright, my dear," the elderly man said. "Now, Sirius, why don't you make some lunch for our guest, and we will think about where to put her."

"Put me?" she asked, sitting up more, nearly forgetting the tea in her hands, holding it more steady as the tea sloshed a bit at the sides of the cup. "I…"

And then it hit her. She didn't know who she was, or where she was from, or how she got to where she was. She couldn't just walk out into the night and go back to whatever her life was before she came here, not until she started remembering a few things.

"I see," she said, rubbing at her arms absently. They were a bit dirty, and she frowned at the bit of dirt that flaked off.

The kindly man said, "After you've had a bite, my dear, you will have an opportunity to clean up. I will have to speak to Miss Evans about getting you something fresh to wear. But there's a bedroom here; it's not regularly used. We are going to put you up there until we find out a bit more about you, if that is quite alright."

"It's no trouble?" she asked, nervous. "I mean, I don't want to put anybody out."

"It is nothing, my dear," he said, his blue eyes twinkling behind half-moon spectacles. "Sirius, how is food coming?"

"She can come in any time," the young man called. "Sandwiches are nearly ready."

The kindly man helped her onto shaky legs and walked her into a kitchen with blue wallpaper and a bit of light blue tiling on the floor. Sirius, the younger man, was placing a plate of sandwiches on the table before sitting across from her. Catherine noticed he was watching her with curiosity, and she felt a bit self-conscious. She must look a state, although she hadn't had a proper look at herself, and here was this incredibly handsome man watching her.

"Tuck in," he said, smiling.

Her heart did funny things, seeing him smile like that, but she gave him a weak smile back and submitted to her hunger. While she ate, she learned that the kindly older man was named Albus Dumbledore – and he insisted that she call him Albus – and that the younger man was named Sirius Black. The house she was in was the headquarters for something, but they didn't talk about whatever it was. Catherine got the sense that whatever it was, it wasn't very pleasant based on the way Albus's eyes grew sad when conversation got too close to it.

"I'll call Lily while she's cleaning up," Sirius said when Catherine was on the last of the sandwiches. "She'll be able to bring over some clothes, maybe some more food, a newspaper. Maybe that'll spark something in her memory."

"That would be ideal," Albus said. "I need to be getting back to the school. Sirius will stay with you, Catherine."

"How long?" Catherine asked.

She wondered if she sounded as anxious and small as she felt. Surely Sirius had somewhere else to be, other things to do, but she didn't want to be alone, not in this strange place where strangers came and went, not without knowing anything but her name and what color her bedroom was.

"I'll stay the night, anyway," Sirius said, smiling at her. "I haven't got anywhere I need to be, and if someone drops in, I don't want you to be the only person here to greet them. Last thing you need right now."

Catherine nodded, and Sirius saw Albus out, leaving her to finish her last sandwich in quiet. The room really was remarkably quiet, still, with just the smallest sound of a bird outside. She thought she might be somewhere in the countryside, with that much quiet.

Sirius came back into the kitchen as she was standing to find the bathroom, and he was looking at her quizzically.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, feeling almost exposed under his gaze.

"No," he said, giving her a smile. "No, it's just…. This may sound strange, but before you woke up, I was sure your eyes would be gray, but…but they're brown." He laughed at himself and Catherine was startled by it. There was a barking quality to his laugh, like she was suddenly in the presence of a large and boisterous hound. But when the laugh was over, she realized it was only the sound of Sirius laughing, and she knew there was something funny in his laugh sounding like a bark, but she couldn't think of what it was, just like she wasn't really sure why it was funny that her eyes were brown.

"Bath's at the end of the hall," he said, gesturing to a corridor she had passed from the front room to the kitchen. "I know there's soap in there, but I can't vouch for anything else, or even if it smells decent. If you need shampoo or something, I can have Lily bring some over."

"N-no, I'll be fine," she said, thinking that if she just managed to rinse all of the mud out of her hair, she would take care of shampooing once she remembered where home was, so she could go back.

Catherine went into the bathroom, turning on the light and starting the bath, startled by how hot it felt to her cold hands. She rubbed them together and tried testing the temperature again, finding it still a little bit too hot.

As the bath was filling she looked in the mirror, frowning at her streaked skin, the dark circles forming beneath her soft brown eyes, the way her dark brown hair matted and caked around her face. A forest. She had been found in a forest, she reminded herself. Why couldn't she remember being in a forest?

Perhaps there was a forest where she lived, she thought, peeling off the dress she had been wearing, carefully pulling off her underwear.

It was a nightgown, she realized, looking at the dress more closely. And she wasn't wearing shoes. How had she not noticed that her feet were bare?

A shiver ran down Catherine's spine, but she told herself it was only the cold, stepping into the bath, letting her body sink into the warm water, ignoring the burning sensation as her icy skin touched the warm water. It would be pink at the waterline, she knew, but she'd be pink from scrubbing, anyway, when she got all of this mud off.

Sirius's recollection was good. There was soap, and it smelled normal enough. She saw a little bottle of shampoo. There wasn't much left and it smelled oddly of lemongrass and what she thought might be mushrooms, but she decided to use it and face the wrath of whoever it belonged to later. She didn't think they would mind if they could see the state of her hair.

There was a knock on the door as she began to scrub her mud-caked feet and she turned, feeling small again, like she'd done something wrong, although she couldn't think what.

"Catherine, Lily's getting some things together and she and James will be over. Take your time. When you're done, there will be clothes laid outside the door for you. Okay?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, relaxing at the sound of Sirius's voice. "And Sirius, thank you for the sandwiches. They were delicious."

He laughed again, another bark.

"They were sandwiches," he said through the door, and she could almost hear his beautiful smile. "But you're very welcome. I expect Lily will bring you something proper for dinner and you'll taste what exquisite cooking is."

"Lily cooks?"

"No, James's mother cooks. That's where they are now. Anyway, enjoy your bath, and try to relax. They're friends, I promise."

She thanked him again, waiting until she could no longer hear the sound of him walking away up the hall before letting out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding, turning her attention back to her feet.

 **A/N: So that's the beginning! This is going to be AU, but as in-character as humanly possible. Not everyone who died will die. Not everyone who lived will live.**

 **Today is Saturday, and I am posting. Here's the deal: Every week, if a week passes with 10 reviews, I will post on Saturday. IF I get 10 in that week, I post early! Want an early post? Review! Every 10 after the first ten (within the span of that week) gets an extra post that week! Want three posts in a week? Give me 30 reviews! I've already written out all 34 chapters of Part 1, so if you want to know how things work out, you can drive the pace of updates!**

 **Review Prompt: If you could pick one death from the first war (apart from Lily and James) to change, who would it be?**

 **I think I would change Caradoc. Disappearing seems so much more terrifying than all of the other stories. Really opens it up.**

 **-C**


	2. Starting Place

Sirius sat in the kitchen after explaining everything that had happened from when he woke up to calling in Lily and James, who were sitting across from him. Fresh clothes had been laid out for Catherine, as promised, and tea was made for four, with Catherine's being kept warm.

"And she doesn't remember anything at all?" Lily asked, horrified. "That poor thing. She must be terrified."

"I think she is," Sirius said, rubbing his neck thoughtfully.

He really had thought her eyes would be gray.

"I guess we'll be having a meeting at some point soon," James said, stirring more sugar into his tea. "If she's staying here, people have to know about her. Lily, what are the odds she'll start to remember?"

"I'm not an expert on mental Healing, James," she said. "I expect that after trauma it's not uncommon to have some measure of amnesia. But I thought it was more of the event in question, not everything."

"She knows her name and she knows what her bedroom looks like," Sirius said. "She remembers going to bed, and she doesn't remember anything else."

The three friends sat in silence for several minutes before Lily couldn't stand it anymore and said, "Did Dumbledore mention Remus?"

"No," Sirius said. He took a sip of his tea. "No, I don't think he wants us to know, whatever it is. I'm trying not to ask any more questions than I have to, Lily. Whatever it is, we've got to trust them."

She nodded, but Sirius knew that look. She wasn't about to let it go, and he really didn't expect her to. Before he could think of a change of subject, he heard the door to the bathroom open and close. He must have perked up, because James quirked an eyebrow.

Sirius didn't know how to explain it, but ever since he'd seen Catherine he felt that he needed to make sure she was safe. She had looked so fragile, unconscious on the floor of the front room. He'd actually had a thought of a picture he'd seen once in a book of poems Lily read in school, something about a lady in a boat surrounded by flowers, floating down a river, dead.

She had looked dead.

And then when she didn't know the answers, she looked so small and afraid, like a child. There was something childlike about her, not because she looked especially small or young, but something in her expressions.

Not two minutes later, Catherine came into the kitchen with wet hair, although now that it was clean Sirius could see that it came down to her waist, at least while wet. Her skin was clean, although it was still uncommonly pale, and she smiled weakly.

"You must be Catherine," Lily said pleasantly, smiling a sad smile. "Please, sit. We've made you tea."

"Thank you for the clothes," Catherine said. "You must be Lily."

"They're a bit big," Lily said, frowning slightly. "Here, let me just…"

She did a few quick spells to alter the dress, and it suited Catherine much better. Still, if they couldn't figure out who she was, Sirius knew that Catherine would have to be getting some clothes of her own. They couldn't just expect her to keep wearing Lily's old things.

"I'm James," James said as Catherine sipped her tea. "James Potter. It's very nice to meet you. Here, we've brought the paper from the last few days. Maybe you'll see something that strikes your memory."

Catherine nodded, and she glanced at the front page of the top paper James pushed her way, but she looked very uncomfortable, so Sirius decided to change the topic. She could read them later, alone.

"Was there shampoo?" he asked lightly.

"Ah, yes. A little."

"Oh, gosh, it was probably that awful stuff Caradoc's been using," Lily said mournfully. "I'll get you something better, Catherine. You shouldn't be expected to use something ghastly just because you're a guest."

"It was fine," Catherine said nervously. "I really wouldn't want—"

"Let her take care of you, Catherine," Sirius said, grinning. "Lily always gets her way, just ask James. Here, they've brought us a lovely roast for supper. Tell Mum I said thanks, yeah?"

James nodded.

With a look of confusion, Catherine looked between them and then asked, "Are you brothers?"

Sirius paused. He hadn't even thought about it, calling Euphemia Potter Mum in front of a stranger.

"As near as matters," James said, grinning. "You'll love it, Cate. She's put in extra gravy."

They all watched her carefully to see if she reacted to the shortened version of her name positively, but they were slightly dismayed when she seemed puzzled by it. She nodded slowly before saying, "I don't think I've been called that."

"Cate?" Sirius tried again, and she shook her head.

"If you don't like it, we won't," Lily said quickly.

"No, no, it's fine," Catherine said nervously. "I…I like it fine. I just don't think anyone's called me that before." Then she frowned again, blinking rapidly. "But I can't really remember, to be honest."

She was about to cry again, and Sirius felt a sudden surge of panic. He didn't want her to cry. He didn't want her to be even a little bit upset or distressed. She had likely already undergone something horrific, and the last thing she needed was to be traumatized again.

"Here," he said, pulling out another Calming Draught, left by Dumbledore. "I reckon it's time for another one of these."

"Oh, Sirius, really?" Lily asked, frowning disapprovingly.

"Dumbledore said so, Lily. Just until she gets more comfortable. It's not good for her to hyperventilate while she's acclimatizing."

Lily continued to look disapproving, but she didn't stop him or even argue as Sirius dosed Catherine's tea. The trembling girl drank the tea without fuss, thanking him after a few slow sips.

"Now, then," Sirius said, forcing a smile and turning back to his two best friends, "how are the wedding plans coming along?"

And with those well-selected words, they had conversation fodder for hours.

/-/

By the time Lily and James left, Catherine felt as though she had known the pair a lifetime. She had heard the whole story of their love, from their meeting and initially rocky acquaintance, to James's falling madly in love with her and begging her to be his for years, to his toning down and her finally seeing his merits in return.

"That must have been exhausting," Catherine said, smiling as she and Sirius tucked into the roast Madam Potter had made for them. "They have so much energy. I would hate to see them fight."

"You probably will, if you're around long enough," Sirius said with a wink, pouring some water, sliding it across the table to her before pouring a second one. "Granted, it's not like the old days, but they're still something to see."

Catherine nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, noticing that it was still damp from her bath.

She had looked over the papers while Sirius had cooked some cabbage to go with the roast, and she felt a kind of emptiness as she set aside the last of them.

"Anything?" he asked.

"No," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I still only have a name and a bedroom, unfortunately."

"Well, tomorrow there's a meeting," Sirius said encouragingly. "I'm sure someone will have ideas. Don't worry, Catherine. We'll find something. It might take time, but we'll find it."

Catherine smiled weakly and nodded, but she didn't feel the optimism that seemed to seep off of him. She wanted to believe him, but she was beginning to grow tired with all of the attempting to remember, like using a muscle she wasn't used to using.

He tossed the papers on the counter and dished up some cabbage, sitting down across from her and smiling again.

"Well, go on, then. Try it. I guarantee you'll love it."

She did try it, and she was pleased to taste savory, succulent meat, seeming to fall apart in her mouth. She must have made a sound of approval, because Sirius smirked triumphantly before digging hungrily into his.

There were things Catherine wanted to ask him, things she was curious about, like why he talked about James's mother like she was his mother, and why he kept looking at her like he knew her, but couldn't place her.

She wished he really did know her. She wished it would be something simple, like Sirius suddenly realizing how he recognized her and giving them a clue, or perhaps the whole key to her existence. Maybe they'd been regulars at the same restaurant, or they'd met at a bar once, or they'd grown up on the same street. Anything, she really didn't care, as long as it was something more than what she already knew.

But if he knew her, he seemed no closer to unlocking it than he had when they'd first met, and dinner passed with no questions answered, his or hers.

"Where's the room Albus mentioned?" Catherine asked after she'd brushed her teeth and come back out to the front room, where Sirius had lit a fire in the grate and was stoking it.

"Uh, it's just the first door on your right." He turned and smiled, and with him backlit by the fireplace, she realized he had quite strong arms. "I think the sheets are clean. If they don't seem clean, let me know. We've got clean linens around here somewhere."

Catherine nodded, and she turned to go, but something stopped her.

She turned back around to see Sirius sitting down on the sofa, the sofa she had woken up on early that day, a total stranger in a completely new place.

"Sirius," she said softly, "thank you for staying with me. I… I'm sure you'd rather sleep in your own bed."

"It's not a big deal," he said cheerfully. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."

"Is…. You're not sleeping on the sofa, are you?"

He turned to look at her and smiled.

"Why shouldn't I? Don't worry, Lily cleaned it while you were in the bath. It's perfectly sanitary."

"But I…" She felt uncomfortable, like she was putting him out. "I really didn't want to cause any trouble. I…. You shouldn't have to sleep on a sofa just because I'm here."

"Cat, you've not got anywhere to go," he said kindly, smiling at her. "Don't worry about me. I've slept on a few sofas in my life, and I'm not so old yet that it matters. I'll be perfectly comfortable. Besides, I won't be able to sleep if I don't know that you're safe and sleeping peacefully. Okay? Don't worry about me."

But she couldn't help worrying about it. There was something about Sirius, she was terrified of inconveniencing him. But she nodded weakly and thanked him again before going to the bedroom in question.

The first thought when she turned on the light in the sky-blue room was that it was twice the size of the bedroom in her weak memory. The bed was huge, big enough for two or three, where the one in her mind's eye could only really hold one comfortably. It had a desk, a closet, even a bedside table with a little lamp. The sheets seemed clean enough for her, and they were cool and fresh to the touch. She wasn't sure why, but the sheets she remembered from before seemed damp like…like sweat or blood or something was on them. They weren't fresh, she knew that much.

Blood.

She shivered. What a thing to think of, to be on sheets. It was probably sweat. Sweaty sheets weren't unheard of.

"Everything okay?" Sirius called.

"Yes," she called back, and her voice sounded tight. "Yes, it's perfect."

She couldn't help thinking as she got into the bed that there would have been plenty of room for the both of them, if they hadn't been strangers. It wasn't that she was afraid of him, because she actually felt very safe with him, but it didn't seem right, inviting a strange man to share a bed with her, no matter how sweet he was.

And she didn't think he would have accepted, anyway.

/-/

A sore, battered, mud-soaked Remus Lupin shivered, looking up at the starry night sky. New moon tomorrow, and he would slip away as he always did. Most of the wolves went separate ways on new moons, which gave Remus the perfect opportunity to go to meetings. Dumbledore had scheduled a meeting on every new moon since Remus had been given his task, knowing full well that they were the only meetings Remus could guarantee attendance for.

Tomorrow he would see his friends again, hear the news. He hoped for some good news, since he didn't have any of his own to add to the table. He would settle for no bad news. He flicked sandy hair out of his eyes and thought of the upcoming wedding. Lily and James had gone out of their way to schedule it for a new moon. He told them it wasn't necessary, but he couldn't lie to himself. He was pleased that they'd made certain that he could be there.

For the time being, all he could do was wait patiently, and hope his suit still fit and looked respectable by the time the wedding came around. He smiled to himself for the first time in months and closed his eyes, basking in the starlight.

/-/

Peter rubbed absently at his forearm as he rested his head against his bedroom wall. He knew he should stop, because he couldn't risk doing the unconscious action around his friends, around the Order. It would be hard enough, avoiding Mad-Eye's particular gaze. He said that and said that and said that, hoping they wouldn't mark him, but no luck. After all, as they pointed out, nobody really looked at him. He went unseen, unnoticed.

The meeting tomorrow, that would be the test. If he could be natural, if he could be himself so much that no one even noticed him, then he would have done his job. He couldn't deliver people like Sirius might have, being the best man at the wedding, being exceptionally persuasive and talented. But if everything went to plan, he knew that his part would be just as important.

Peter inhaled a sharp, rattling breath as he thought of what Sirius would do if he knew what Peter had done.

When he knew, Peter realized.

It was crazy, it was foolish even, but Peter Pettigrew knew that he was more afraid of Sirius Black than he was of the Dark Lord, and no rational line of thought could tell him why.

/-/

James kissed Lily's forehead on the front porch of his family home. He was pleased Lily had agreed that they should start their life together in Godric's Hollow, in the village he had always lived. The night sky wouldn't have looked right anywhere else.

"I can't believe she would do this to me," Lily said. "I mean, I was in _her_ stupid wedding. I don't understand."

"Is there anyone from school you'd want to be your maid of honor?" James said, giving her a sympathetic smile. He knew her sister was going to be awful about it, but Lily didn't want to give up on the cow.

Lily shook her head, looking out at the church in the distance.

"There was really only Mary."

James froze, trying not to remember what it had been like, finding Mary's body on patrol. He'd never seen so much blood before. And the sound of screaming…. He thought it had been Lily making that sound, but Remus politely told him that it had actually been him making that horrific cry. Lily lied and said it was her for telling their friends, probably to help him save face with Sirius.

"Someone in the Order?"

She shook her head.

"Lily, if you want, I don't have to have a best man. Sirius would understand."

"No," she said firmly, fiercely, looking back up at him with that stern gaze she used to use for turning him down, bless her. "You are not doing that to Sirius. He's so excited to be your best man, and I'm not taking that away from him. I don't need a bridesmaid, James. I'll be fine. Sirius give speech enough for two. And if you want, we can have Remus give a speech as well. I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

James nodded, smiling at the thought of the two speeches. Remus would take it so seriously, give such a moving speech. Something that would make everyone cry tears of joy and sentimentality. And then Sirius would get up and everyone would be mildly uncomfortable, or bursting with laughter. James would come away embarrassed.

"If that's what you want," he said, kissing her forehead again, pulling her into a hug. "It's going to be perfect, love."

She nodded.

His parents had even gone to Cokeworth to ask Lily's sister if she would be a bridesmaid, but Petunia was just terrible like that. And now with everything with this girl Dumbledore found, their day wasn't shaping up quite like they'd planned. James told himself that he'd find a way to make it up to her, even if it meant staying up all night to think of a way.

Lily kissed him one more time and walked a little way up the street before Disapparating on the corner.

James had a reflexive thought to drop by Sirius's flat and have a drink, but then he remembered that Sirius was staying at headquarters, keeping guard over Catherine, the mystery girl. He frowned slightly, although he wasn't sure why his muscles decided to do this. He rubbed his cheeks as though they might be cold and he walked back into the house, his mind already moving on to how best to spoil Lily.

 **A/N: Enjoy the mystery? Anyone got any preliminary guesses on who she is and how she got here?**

 **Review Prompt: If you'd been able, would you have joined the Order, or tried to find a safer way to survive the war? (no shame, either way)**

 **I would have joined the Order as long as I just did low-key things that didn't involve dueling or other exercise.**

 **-C**


	3. Scars

Although Sirius realized that Catherine was nervous, he told her there wasn't anything he could do about it: she would be in the bedroom during the meeting, and she wouldn't be allowed out until either he or Albus came for her. He did apologize, which was nice of him.

It wasn't all bad, as Sirius had pointed out. She didn't have to meet as many people right away, and he'd left her a book or two to peruse.

They weren't very good books, from what she had read thus far, but Catherine was prepared to make the most of it. These people hadn't been required to be nice to her at all, and yet they were. They had fed and clothed and boarded her, and all they knew about her was her name.

/-/

As Albus had suspected, most of the Order was highly sympathetic to Catherine's plight. With a war on, it was very likely that whoever had left her in the forest, or near it, had left her for dead. Naturally, Alastor could see the dark possibilities that no one else had yet to consider.

"We know nothing about this girl," he growled. "Could be she's a spy."

"She has no idea who she is," Sirius Black argued. "She's afraid, Mad-Eye."

Albus held up his hand to stop the young man before his anger led him to say something he regretted in the young woman's defense.

"Alastor is perfectly right, Sirius," Albus said softly. "There is every possibility that there is more to her than there appears to be. But if she is a spy, Alastor, she does not know it. What she says she knows is, for the time being, what she knows. If she has been left this way for some nefarious purpose, she doesn't know what that is, and all the interrogation in the world will not help you discover it." He clapped his hands together as the Prewetts began to whisper together at the far end of the table, and with a raised eyebrow in their direction, they fell silent again, blushing.

"Now," he continued, "until she remembers more, for good or for ill, we will be housing her here. Miss Evans, you know her size?"

"Yes, sir," Lily said, perking up slightly at the mention of her surname, soon to be her maiden name. "Do you want us to get her something more to wear?"

"I'll pay for it," James said.

"You have a wedding to pay for, James," Albus said, amused. "Do not suppose that you are the only person in the Order with enough money to purchase things as needed."

He and Elphias would put their gold together, and they should be able to get her a few nice things for the moment, Albus thought, glancing around at the members of the Order before him.

"She should not be alone at any time," Albus said. "Both for her protection and for ours. Alastor, a spare wand wouldn't go amiss." Alastor grumbled, but he would provide one, however reluctantly. "Sirius, you don't have to stay here the whole time. We have no way of knowing how long it will take for Catherine to begin to recover her memories naturally, or if she ever will."

"I really don't mind," Sirius said, shrugging. "I spend more time here than at my flat, anyway."

"But you cannot serve the Order as completely if you are always here."

The young man's lips formed an 'o' of understanding, and Lily said she would be happy to help. Albus set up a rotation, mostly with Sirius and Lily, but with shifts from Marlene and Peter as well.

"Very good," he said, smiling at them. "Sirius, why don't you go and fetch our guest so that she can get a few of her questions answered."

/-/

Sirius knocked on the door and heard Catherine's voice saying that he could come in. He opened the door and she looked up at him over the book, and again he was startled to see that her eyes were brown, but he was starting to get used to it.

"Are they gone?"

"No, Albus wants you to join us."

Catherine tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear anxiously and said, "Are there many people?"

"There's a few," he said, motioning for her to stand. She set the book aside and walked over to him on legs that still didn't seem sure of what they were doing. He felt himself frowning slightly. She should be able to walk normally by now. "There's one who might seem a bit hostile, but he's just careful."

"Because of the war?"

Sirius tensed, quirking his head in question. If he'd been in dog form, his ear would have raised, but his eyebrow did instead.

"Sorry," she said, flushing slightly, her hands trembling. "It's just, I saw things in the paper, and I kind of assumed…. Nobody would say anything, something to do with Death and there was someone nobody would name and lists of missing and dead, and it just seemed like a war."

"Don't be sorry," Sirius said gently, making a mental note that she was very clever. "It is a war, and there's a lot you should know. Come on. Just…let us do the talking as much as possible. Short questions. The more you add of your assumptions, the less he's going to trust you."

Catherine nodded and he led her into the kitchen, not sure why he was feeling nervous. He wasn't the one about to be interrogated by Mad-Eye Moody.

/-/

The poor girl looked like the room was spinning before her as she was given names and faces to remember, and Remus couldn't help but think how beautiful she was.

Not beautiful like Lily, who was full of classic beauty and overflowing kindness, but beautiful like a wounded animal, with looks not quite right and manners more protective than friendly. She seemed to have attached herself slightly to Sirius in the time she had been at headquarters, and she stayed close to him, trembling almost imperceptibly.

If Sirius noticed, he made no sign of it. He seemed as comfortable with her as she was with him, and Remus thought that was very interesting. Sirius had never had much time for anyone but the Marauders, and even once Lily and James started dating, it took months for Sirius to fully accept and befriend her. He wasn't suspicious like Mad-Eye, but he didn't get close to many people. Remus always thought it had something to do with his family, but Sirius never said and Remus wasn't about to ask. He knew better than most the importance for some secrets to be unspoken.

The basics of the war were explained to Catherine, who asked a few questions from what she'd seen in newspapers they had shown her. Albus was able to explain the Order without explaining anything specific they were doing, and she seemed to understand. Marlene McKinnon put out food at the end of the meeting and the Prewetts made tea for everyone present.

After dinner, where Catherine stayed quiet, Remus lingered. He had very few nights with his friends lately, and he wanted to get as much out of them as possible. Catherine was still nursing her tea at the end of the table, and James and Sirius had gone into the front room to speak with Caradoc about something. Remus sat down beside her, and she tensed slightly, looking up at him and forcing a smile.

She was afraid, but Remus reminded himself that she was afraid of everyone. It didn't have anything to do with him specifically.

"Sorry, I startled you," he said with a sad smile.

"I-it's fine," she lied. "R-Remus?"

"That's right," he said. "I won't get to see very much of you, so I thought I'd have a chat now. I…I have to travel a lot."

"For the Order?"

"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, frowning. From what Sirius said, she'd been in the woods for days, but her nails were exquisitely well-kept. Whatever she did, wherever she lived, she had the leisure to care for her hands, or have them cared for. They were a little longer than most girls he knew kept theirs, but they were all evenly sized and identically shaped.

"Did I do something?" she asked.

Remus shook his head, smiling again. He could ask, but he doubted a question about her nails would do any good. Not the sort of thing personal enough to strike a memory.

"You have a lot of scars," she said softly. "I have scars too."

He couldn't hide his confusion, looking at her. Every bit of her skin visible was flawless, like a bolt of uncut silk. Albus said she'd had bruising on her wrists, but that was healed completely now. She had the signs of dark circles beginning under her eyes, but they seemed to already be fading.

"What do you mean?"

Catherine glanced around the room, but there was only Lily doing dishes at the sink. Even Peter had gone home, had to do something for his mother. Remus thought his heart stopped for a moment when Catherine's thin fingers slowly pulled up the hem of her skirt. Above her knees, up and up, up to mid-thigh. Remus was just about to stop her, the back of his neck was burning, until he saw them.

Deep, pale, thin scars crisscrossing her skin. Like someone had used her legs as carving practice, not deep enough to do serious damage, but they must have hurt.

"Oh, my," he muttered, not sure what to say. Had the others seen these? Surely they would have mentioned them.

"There's more," she said, her eyes welling up. "On my stomach. They're not as deep. I should remember, shouldn't I? I should know what they are."

"Has Lily or Sirius seen these?" Remus asked softly.

Catherine shook her head, hastily dropping her hem and scooping up her unfinished tea. It was probably tepid, now.

"Why did you show me?"

"You have scars too," she said, frowning slightly. "I don't know. I guess I thought maybe you would…you would…." She gave a weak laugh. "I mean, recognize isn't the right word, but maybe you'd know how they might have…"

She seemed to lose her voice, and she was drinking the tea again when Sirius and James came back into the kitchen.

"What's wrong?" Sirius asked, seeing almost at once that Catherine was upset. "Moony, what is it?"

"I…"

What was it? That was a very good question, and Remus didn't know quite what to say. Catherine shook her head, and Remus felt strangely conflicted. He didn't want to betray the girl's confidence, but something was ringing in his mind, Mad-Eye's words. What if she was a spy and didn't know it? What if she'd shown him those scars because they were put there for him to sympathize with?

If someone was looking for a way to get Remus to feel the need to protect the girl, they couldn't have done it better than by carving patterns into her skin and then leaving her to wonder where they came from. Remus really didn't have much memory of most of his scars, either. It was always worse when he woke up after a full moon with deep wounds he couldn't recall.

"I'm sorry," Remus said, nervous, his heart racing. Could Sirius hear it? Did Sirius know Remus was lying? "I asked her…." What? What did he ask her?

"Remus, we aren't supposed to ask her questions yet," Lily chided, turning away from the dishes. "Oh, Sirius, don't look at me like that, you're going to do it anyway."

Remus was about to ask what, but then he saw Sirius tip a bit of sedative into Catherine's unfinished tea, and Lily came around to pour some fresh tea into the cup.

Something Dumbledore was doing, no doubt.

"Now's a good time, Lily," James said, clearing his throat. "While Pete isn't around. I don't want him feeling left out."

"Time for what?" Sirius asked, smiling at Catherine before getting rid of the empty vial.

Lily looked a bit anxious, her shoulders tightening as she sat down, dishes unfinished. She waved her wand and they continued to wash themselves as she sighed.

"My sister isn't going to be in my wedding."

"Bitch," Sirius growled.

The fact that Lily no longer sobbed when he said that was a testament to how upset she truly was. They'd fought since Lily started at Hogwarts, Remus knew, maybe even before, but Lily still loved her sister and wanted so badly for them to have a real relationship. Sirius had originally used much worse words for Petunia, but with time he'd taken to less colorful language, because anything worse only upset Lily.

"We'd like you to give a speech, Remus," James said, "in lieu of any bridesmaids."

Remus was touched, looking at Lily for confirmation, and she nodded, smiling a watery smile, touching his hand with one of her delicate hands.

"I'd be honored," Remus said, smiling.

Well, he'd have something to do in the long nights with the pack, composing his speech for the next new moon. Sirius barked with laughter, a sound that seemed to startle Catherine.

"This'll be brilliant, Moony! You and me, giving the speeches! How about this, how about you say all the sappy stuff and I'll tell the embarrassing stories?"

Remus rolled his eyes, but he didn't bother answering. He had a feeling that was expected by Lily and James to begin with.

When Remus decided that it really was time for him to go, he let Sirius walk him out, and he pulled Sirius outside, lowering his voice.

"Sirius, there's something wrong with Catherine."

"Apart from her amnesia?" Sirius said with a snort. "Yeah, I knew you hadn't upset her over nothing. You're a terrible liar, mate."

Remus certainly hoped not, because his life depended on his ability to tell a lie. But then, Sirius had always been able to see right through him.

"Just…. She shook her head; she didn't want me telling you." Remus glanced back at the house. "I don't know why. But she's got scars, Sirius, not where we can see when she's fully dressed. Thighs, and she said on her stomach as well, but I obviously didn't see those. I think she's afraid of them."

Sirius nodded, thanked Remus, and then Remus walked out into the night. He walked until he was calm enough to Apparate, and then he left the world that was his real life once a month, and went back to the pack.

/-/

Sirius felt tremendously guilty, but he told himself that he was covering all the bases, doing what he had to do as a man fighting a war. When he was sure she was asleep, he cast a quick charm to make sure she stayed that way, and then he gently peeled back Catherine's sheets. His breath caught at the sight of her pale calves. Flawless, just like her face and arms. A shiver ran through him.

Merlin, he really shouldn't be doing this.

With a careful, trembling hand, he gently grabbed the hem of her nightgown and pulled it away from her body, up toward her head. He could feel his pulse in his wrists, in his neck, as he looked down at her legs, but it was too dark to see, what with the new moon.

" _Lumos_ ," he whispered, holding up his wand over her legs.

There they were, thin and surprisingly deep, sketched across her skin like some kind of raised tattoo. In spite of her privacy, he continued to raise the hem above the sensible cotton panties Lily had left for Catherine, and he ignored the hormonal part of him thinking that she was rather fit. He tried to focus on her stomach, where there were more scars, lighter, like gentle etchings of the same pattern on her skin.

Something struck Sirius as very familiar about these sort of scars, and he hastily placed back her dress and sheets, removing the charm as he left the room, feeling his skin crawl.

To mark the skin but keep the face pretty….

Sirius walked into the bathroom and pulled off his t-shirt, seeing in the mirror a few, small, thin scars that had been there long before any of his nighttime activities with the Marauders. A thing some old families did, where they kept all discipline invisible to the social eye, so the child wasn't considered less viable for marriage opportunities.

His marks were with a belt, a couple of times when his father was upset and very drunk, before Sirius's mother made him quit the drinking. It was all verbal after that, but Sirius still recalled each mark. How could Catherine have such marks and remember nothing at all about them?

Her marks were different, he thought, pulling the shirt back on and splashing a bit of water on his face. He toweled it dry. Her marks were carefully, almost lovingly applied by someone very, very twisted. His mother was a bitch, and his father wasn't warm and loving, but he'd been spared the more twisted members of the family, like his cousin Bellatrix.

She'd shown those scars to Moony, presumably because she thought he would understand them. Sirius knew that feeling, and it was the reason he'd been so anxious to learn what was wrong with Remus, and how to help him. Scars were like a brotherhood of their own, one that James and Peter could never understand with their doting mothers and loving homes. Wherever Catherine was from, whatever it was she couldn't remember, she belonged to that battered family as well, and Sirius couldn't sleep that night. He spent all night trying to decide if he should tell Dumbledore about the scars, and what he could possibly say.

/-/

Albus rubbed his eyes as he turned over the list of Order members in his mind. Having Sirius spend so much time keeping track of Catherine meant there was less Sirius could do for the Order, and their numbers were stretched terribly thin to begin with.

Dorcas cozying up to the wives of Death Eaters, Caradoc travelling Wales looking for the artefacts in question, Remus spending almost every day with the wolf packs in the north, and Lily and James preparing for their wedding….

Perhaps he could get a bit more work out of Marlene McKinnon. Her family could spare her a few more hours a week, surely. There just had to be some way to shuffle things to make up for it, because it was clear to Albus that the girl and Sirius had become attached to each other on some subconscious level. Perhaps it would help her heal to be around him.

Perhaps it might help him heal as well.

Albus found he was getting too old for this sort of thing. It was harder and harder to clear his mind of all the things he needed to do. The responsibility seemed heavier than it had in his youth, when he thought he could take on the world. Perhaps it was better this way, to remember his humanity in the small hours of the night, when the rest of the world was sleeping.

 **A/N: So, our mystery girl is still a mystery, but now we have another clue! Remember, ten reviews buy an extra chapter in the week!**

 **Review Prompt: If you were an Order member, what do you think your main job would be?**

 **Personally, I'm thinking I'd be some kind of courier. I know they don't normally need one because they have magic, but if they ever did, I'd be boss at it. Otherwise, I'd probably be useless.**

 **-C**


	4. To Have and to Hold

"What do you think?" Lily said, holding up a pale blue dress for Catherine to look at. "Only, I know we haven't gotten anything else you could wear to a wedding, and I would so like you to be there."

Catherine smiled politely and nodded.

She knew that what Lily really meant was that the whole of the Order would be at the wedding and they didn't want to leave Catherine without someone to stay with her. Still, Lily's earnest eyes were an inducement to be flattered with the overwhelming sincerity, and Catherine liked the idea of getting out for a bit, even if it was just for twenty-four hours.

She would stay with Lily for the night in the Potter home, where James's parents would be keeping an eye out for them while they enjoyed themselves, which Catherine supposed she could easily do. Sirius would be with James and Remus and Peter at Sirius's flat in London for the night, and then they would be at the wedding in the morning. Sirius would take her back to the house in the woods after the wedding, and that would be that.

"It's very pretty," she said, feeling a bit guilty. She had a feeling it cost a fortune, and she'd overheard Sirius say that he would put up the money for whatever Lily thought would look best.

"I'm so glad you like it," Lily said happily. "Are you ready to go?"

Catherine nodded, letting Lily take her hand. Sirius had already left with the boys, and Catherine walked out into the sunshine for a few brief moments before being transported to Godric's Hollow.

/-/

Sirius curled up on the floor, clutching at a stitch in his side while James tried to pour more firewhiskey. James was laughing so hard his hand was too unsteady to pour without making a mess, but Sirius was too sloshed to care.

"Last time we're going to be able to do something like this, isn't it?" Remus said suddenly, staring at his half-gone glass.

Sirius blinked to try to see his friend's expression better, but it wasn't quite sad. Not quite, but something very close to it.

"How do you mean?" James asked.

"This, you know. We hardly see each other with the Order and everything." He rubbed his eyebrow for a moment. "And you'll be living with Lily, turned all domestic. I don't expect Peter or Sirius getting tied down any time soon, and I certainly can't marry."

Remus knocked the rest of his drink back, and Sirius decided not to pour his friend any more. When Moony got like this, more drink would only facilitate the self-pity. He seemed in a particularly self-pitying mood of late.

"I could marry," Peter said softly in the corner.

Sirius had actually forgotten he was there about three drinks ago; he'd been so quiet. But then, that wasn't terribly surprising.

"Go on then, Pete," James said grinning. He downed his drink in one and began to shakily pour another. "Who would you marry? Still trying to chat up that girl who sells programs at the Magpies matches?"

Probably, Peter blushed. Sirius didn't bother looking. There was about a seventy percent chance that Peter was blushing, and what was the point in checking with odds like those?

"Catherine's very pretty."

"God, she is," Remus moaned.

Sirius actually dropped his glass.

A man who always knew the range of possibilities, always knew what to expect, he'd always been very good about not being caught off guard. How else do you start guessing one of your best friends is a werewolf?

"What, Cat?" Sirius asked, picking up his glass and pouring another drink without bothering to clean his spill. He'd get it in the morning or later. Whatever. "She's not bad."

"Mate, she's bloody gorgeous," James said with a smirk. "If I didn't have the most beautiful woman in existence marrying me, I'd ask her out."

"If I weren't a werewolf," Remus said with a hum of agreement.

The three boys glanced over at Peter, who just shrugged.

He'd never really had an excuse for not dating, not that he really needed one. Sirius thought it was probably better that Peter never got the nerve to try. Spared him rejection.

They'd all had their reasons for not dating in school, the Marauders. Remus and his lycanthropy. Peter and his inadequacies (chiefly, his fear of the fairer sex). James and his undying devotion for one Lily Evans.

For Sirius, it wasn't that he couldn't date. He'd certainly had a girl or two throw herself his way, but he'd never really been interested. With girls, there was a set path that was taken. A guy either fooled around with a bird, or he dated the bird. If he dated her, he either kept with her and married her or he broke up with her, usually in a big, messy scene. If he fooled around with her, it ended, usually in a big, messy scene. Sirius preferred his scenes to feature him as a star, with everyone remarking on how clever he was and wondering how he'd accomplished whatever it was he'd done.

Plenty of girls wanted to waste his time telling him how attractive and clever he was, but he wasn't interested in that. Sirius was bored very easily, and the great thing about the Marauders was that they were always looking for the next thing. The next prank, the next spells to learn early, the next way to be better than they were the day before. The map had been particularly inspired, although he was still rankled that James managed to lose the thing on a date with Lily in the spring of seventh year.

"I mean, I guess she's okay," Sirius said, trying to think of what they meant with Catherine.

She was just so fragile. With Lily Evans, Sirius had always understood why James thought she was attractive – although the obsessive devotion was carrying things a bit beyond Sirius's ability to sympathize with. But even though he could see that Catherine was pretty, he just didn't know why they would want to date her.

"We don't really know anything about her," Sirius argued.

"Mystery," Peter squeaked.

"She's very thin," Sirius said.

"Delicate," Remus sighed.

"She's so afraid of everything!"

"Needs a big, strong, Gryffindor protector," James said with a grin.

Sirius rolled his eyes. James would be the one to think of playing the bloody hero.

"Her eyes are brown!"

All three of his friends looked at him with confusion and curiosity at this outburst. Sirius was surprised, himself. He thought he'd gotten over the strangeness of that, but apparently it was still festering inside of him.

"What's that got to do with anything?" James asked.

"I have no idea," Sirius said. He was desperate for any reason to end the conversation, and mercifully, the clock struck three in the morning and he pointed out that they had to get some sleep or Lily would be furious with them come morning.

Once he had ushered the others to bed, he took a potion to stave off the hangover he was sure to have in the morning and he curled up on the floor with his friends, but he couldn't close his eyes. He was trying not to think about the thin scars on Catherine's skinny thighs, and how they led up to the panties she had been wearing.

But then, just try not thinking about something, he thought bitterly, before going back to trying not to think about her legs.

/-/

Catherine couldn't recall ever having been to a wedding, but she was pretty sure that Mrs. Potter and Marlene McKinnon should have been paying much more attention to Lily. Somehow Marlene was doing Catherine's hair for her, braiding it into an elaborate sort of twist.

"I do this for my daughter sometimes," Marlene said wistfully. "When she wants to dress up like a princess."

Marlene looked after Catherine sometimes when Sirius and Lily were busy with other things, and Catherine had learned about and looked at pictures of Marlene's four children, three boys and one girl. Marlene's husband worked at St. Mungo's as an organizational expert, and Marlene worked from home as an accounts manager for several wizarding restaurants and pubs across the southern part of the country. Marlene certainly looked as though taking care of four children had taken something from her, perhaps youth or substantiality, but she was still very pretty for all of that, with pale hair and light eyes and slightly sallow skin that somehow all came together with one of the kindest, gentlest smiles Catherine could have imagined.

"It must have taken a lot of practice," Catherine said, trying to hold her head as still as humanly possible. Marlene hummed and smiled as Mrs. Potter was helping Lily arrange the skirts of her elaborate dress. "Isn't it a bit unsafe to have a wedding with all the Order members present?"

"Oh, maybe a bit of a risk," Marlene said, shrugging. "The announcement in the paper said it was going to be in Scotland, a little field on the far side of Hogsmeade. Still, some Death Eaters might prowl Godric's Hollow. Don't you worry about it. Albus is taking care of security measures. It would take quite a force to break down the charms on the square and the church that he's put up today."

Catherine nodded once Marlene stepped back from the finished hair, but she had this strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She tried to ignore it. These people knew things she couldn't dream of understanding about the war, and she wasn't fighting. They could handle the safety of the event.

A knock at the door pulled Catherine out of her reverie, and Lily called out, "We're decent, Sirius."

The door opened not to Sirius, but to Peter, who blushed slightly.

"Sirius had to fix a problem with James's suit," he said apologetically. "Don't worry, he and Remus have it under control, but they didn't want you to wonder, so I brought this."

He held up a box.

"Give it to Catherine," Lily said, unable to cross the room at the moment, still dealing with arranging her skirts. "Cate, can you give him that box there on the corner of the desk?"

Catherine picked up the box and made the swap, noting that Peter's sleeves were perhaps a bit short for him. She took the box from his right hand, where his arm simply showed pale skin and very obvious veins, but on the left she got just the hint of a tattoo that looked rather elaborate before he shrugged the sleeve over it, catching her eyes and blushing. She wondered if it was some kind of drunken decision his friends didn't know about, and she just smiled at him, sitting back down, smoothing the pale blue dress over her thighs.

"See you in a bit, Pete!" Lily said cheerfully. "And you tell Sirius that if whatever he's doing doesn't end up perfectly, I will keep good on that promise."

Peter paled slightly, stammered that he would pass it along, and Catherine decided she didn't want to know what the promise was. Lily had Marlene bring the box over so she could open it, and inside was a beautiful strand of pearls. Catherine and Marlene took their leave, heading to the chapel and waiting for the lovely couple.

/-/

The wedding went off without a hitch, a point which Lily made a point of thanking Sirius for, and he gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek and a wink. He couldn't believe he'd ever been nervous about inviting Lily into their little family.

His eyes scanned the small gathering and he saw Peter getting his champagne refill. Marlene and Caradoc were eating cake. Mad-Eye was scanning the perimeter, which was his own way of enjoying himself, and Remus was dancing with a laughing Catherine.

She didn't laugh very often, Sirius realized. She was usually too nervous to really enjoy herself, but a glass of champagne and all the smiles and lightness of the occasion seemed to have loosened her up.

He took a drink of his own champagne, savoring the light toasty flavor as his eyes dropped down to the hem of her dress, which fell just above the knee. The dress was just a shade darker than sky blue, and her pale skin looked creamier than usual underneath it. With a month of being fed by the Order and Mrs. Potter, Catherine was starting to look a bit less skinny, although her face still looked thin and defined, like a statue. Her elaborate hairstyle allowed Sirius a proper look at her neck, which he'd never really considered before. He expected it to be cold, like marble, but smooth like silk.

Sirius shook his head, looking away from her. There was no point thinking about these things. Once she remembered who she was, she would be gone, and that would be that. Maybe she would keep in touch, but somehow he thought it would be easier if she didn't. Things could go back to the way they were, without this need to protect her. He had enough people to protect, what with Lily and James and Remus and Peter and Marlene and Dorcas…

Remus and Catherine were closer now, and the song was coming to an end, and he realized they were coming over to him. Sirius froze as he caught her gaze. Those brown eyes were so joyful, not a hint of fear in them.

Beautiful, he thought, without even wondering where the word had come from. For the first time he fully appreciated what his mates had said the night before. She was a beautiful, beautiful young woman, and all her fragility, all her imperfection, only seemed to perfectly adorn those shining, laughing eyes. He wanted to make her laugh again, to make her smile, to make her happy. Sirius didn't want her to go back to being the trembling, panicked girl on the sofa he had first met.

But the bubble burst as he realized that she would continue to be afraid for as long as she didn't know things, and he couldn't protect her from that unless he could give her back everything at once. And giving that back to her, what would they find? A family? A husband? A whole different life without him.

He smiled as Remus and Catherine approached him, slightly breathless from their dancing and laughing, and Sirius quickly grabbed her another glass of champagne from the nearby table.

"I don't think I've had a chance yet to tell you how lovely you look," Sirius said earnestly.

Catherine blushed beyond the flush of exertion, although she still looked so pale. This was probably the most sunlight she'd had in some time.

"Thank you," she said softly, glancing around at the crowd. "Everybody looks wonderful. Even Mr. Moody's dressed up."

Remus snorted with surprise at hearing Mad-Eye thus addressed. Mad-Eye himself hadn't discouraged the address, although he would have done with anyone else. He seemed to like that Catherine was a little bit unsure of how to interact with him.

"Dance with me?" Sirius asked, setting down his now-empty glass and holding out his hand to Catherine.

She glanced at his hand and hesitated for a moment before saying, "I don't know if I know how to do this kind of dance," she said of the slower, waltz-style song.

"Why don't we try, then?" he said.

She shrugged and handed her half-finished glass to Remus who gave her an encouraging smile.

Sirius had been taught to dance growing up, the sort of thing expected for events and balls and parties, where a young pureblood would meet wives, future business associates, other things considered important. His hands went exactly where they were supposed to, one in her hand, the other at her waist. She naturally put her free hand on his shoulder and their eyes were glued together.

However she knew, it was clear very quickly that Catherine knew how to dance. Her eyes never once went to her feet like someone uncomfortable with the action. She let him lead and moved with surprising effortless grace. Sirius realized that he was pulling her closer, and she wasn't objecting.

Her eyes weren't joyful anymore, but they weren't afraid. Sirius didn't know how to describe the look he saw there, but he felt he'd seen it before somewhere, a lifetime ago.

When the music stopped, he laughed nervously and said, "Looks like you know how to dance after all."

"Yes, I guess I do," she said shrugging, smiling and looking around, perhaps for Remus. "I don't think I like it very much."

"No, nor do I," he said, laughing again. She didn't ask why he'd asked her to dance, and he was glad because he really didn't know why. It just seemed the obvious thing to do.

Across the way, Mad-Eye whispered something to Fabian Prewett who frowned, and he looked across to Sirius, gesturing a code several of the more regular operatives would recognize as the sign for Death Eaters. Sirius nodded that he saw, then glanced to James, who nodded that he had seen as well, and he was whispering to Lily.

Sirius knew his responsibility, although he wanted to make sure everyone else got away safely. He had to get Catherine back to headquarters without her worrying.

"You tired?" he asked, smiling. "I was thinking of heading back now."

"Sure," she said, smiling tightly.

He wondered if she knew, but he didn't ask, letting her say a quick goodbye to Remus. She turned to look for Lily and James, but they were already gone.

When Sirius Apparated them back to the headquarters, she paused on the doorstep, looking up at the night sky. Sirius paused with her, watching her eyes trace the stars. She smiled slightly and looked at him and he felt like the world froze for a moment.

"It's a star," she said, smiling. "That's why it's so funny."

"What?" he asked, not following.

"Your laugh," she said, smiling. "Your name is the dog star, and your laugh is a kind of a barking sound. I couldn't think of why it was so funny, but then I remembered the star."

Sirius smiled, and laughed, walking into the house with her, thinking how funny she would really think it was if she ever saw him transform.

"You like astronomy, then?" he said, heading straight for the kitchen to put the kettle on as she took off her heels.

"I don't know," she said thoughtfully. "I seem to know a lot of the stories, but I don't think I actually like astronomy. I mean, there's a lot of maths and charts, right? I don't think I like that bit."

Sirius understood that. He'd loved the idea of astronomy, but the actual course had been a different matter: far too much work.

For the first time in weeks he actually used a vial of the Calming Draught, but not for Catherine. He slipped a bit into his own tea, knowing that without it he'd never sleep through the night, too anxious to know if everyone made it away, and just how the Death Eaters knew where to look in spite of Dumbledore's efforts to hide the wedding.

 **A/N: Well, you guys came a lot closer this last week to getting an extra chapter. Let's see if we can hit that benchmark this week! Things are starting to get rolling, and once we get headed forward, things will be rolling in quickly! Trust me, you won't want to wait a whole week for chapters.**

 **Review Prompt: Is Peter attracted to Catherine, or is he working in his spy capacity when he makes his remarks?**

 **I'd tell you, but that would be spoilers. ;)**

 **-C**


	5. Suspicions

James frowned as Mad-Eye continued his tirade.

"It's the only explanation, Albus! We suddenly have a spy after this girl shows up on your front doorstep with no memories."

"But that's just it," Sirius said angrily. "How can she be a spy if she doesn't even know her own surname?"

"There's such a thing as sleeper agents," Lily said softly, lacing her fingers into James's. "Don't give me that look, Sirius. I'm not accusing Cate of anything. But theoretically, it would be possible to tamper with someone's memories enough that they would think and behave and act in certain ways without their knowledge, and that could be done with or without the person's permission. It would be…elaborate, time-consuming, complicated, and actually quite dangerous, but how is that different from anything else the Death Eaters have done?"

"How would she have alerted them?" Sirius asked. "I mean, she doesn't leave the house. She doesn't use the mail. She's afraid of the Floo. We know where she is and what she's doing all the time."

To James, though, there were plenty of ways around that. He and Sirius had devised dozens of little ways to communicate without being noticed, even in detention. To say she wasn't a spy just because they didn't know how she could be wasn't right, but James wasn't ready to offer that tidbit. Even though he didn't believe she had done anything, even suggesting she could have seemed enough to get Sirius's hackles up at the moment.

Dumbledore raised a single, frail hand and waited for the room to go silent, which it did. Then he said softly, "For what it's worth, I agree with you, Sirius. It was not merely the time and location of the wedding. There have been things the Death Eaters have known or deduced that they could not possibly have done without someone inside, and someone who knows far more than Catherine has had access to."

Suddenly the room grew even quieter than silent, like everyone around the table was holding their breath at once. They all looked around at each other, everyone in the Order except Remus, who couldn't get away from his current mission, whatever that was.

Someone sitting at the table was a spy. Someone had been hiding behind Mad-Eye's suspicion of Catherine, sliding under the radar, and lying to everyone. And from the way that Dumbledore looked at each of them, James realized that whoever it was still sat there, undetected, at the end of the meeting. James began to do what he had always sworn he would never do.

James began to doubt the people he had called friends. Not the Marauders, not yet, but the others. Everyone was a suspect, and he felt sick to think of that.

/-/

Peter took deep breaths on his way out of the meeting and paused to see Sirius smoking a cigarette on the front step. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure Mad-Eye wasn't around before walking forward.

"Sirius," he said, smiling, "for what it's worth, I don't think Catherine's a spy, either."

"Thanks, Pete," Sirius said, putting out his cigarette half-smoked. He could afford to do things like that. "Nasty business, though, all of it. Hard to believe someone at that table would have betrayed us, would have sold out Lily and James's wedding, of all things."

Peter nodded, and glanced back at the house.

"Well, you know," he started, but then he broke off, and he blushed, which wasn't planned, but it was quite perfectly timed. "Never mind," he said hastily. "Stupid."

"What?"

"Well, it couldn't be, could it?"

Sirius made a sound of exasperation.

"For Merlin's sake, Pete, _what_?"

Peter shuffled his feet for a moment before looking Sirius straight in the eye, just like he'd practiced with the photograph of Sirius, and he said, "Well, it's just…. We weren't all at the table, were we?"

Sirius frowned slightly, turning over this thought, before Peter said, "But like I said, it's stupid. Anyway, I'd better get home before Mum starts panicking. We went kind of long today."

Sirius grunted rather than saying goodbye, and Peter waited to grin until he was turned completely away from Sirius. If Remus was going to disappear all the time, who better to raise suspicion around than the man who couldn't defend himself?

Besides, it would hardly be the first time Remus tried to keep secrets. Peter, he though as he landed back in his mother's street, Peter Pettigrew was an open book.

He laughed all the way to his front door.

/-/

With careful strokes, Catherine rubbed the pencil up the paper. Lily had brought her some pencils, thought that sketching might spark some kind of repressed memory, but thus far all Catherine could determine was that she had absolutely no artistic talent. She was almost grateful when someone knocked at the door.

"C'min," she said, tossing the sketchbook aside and facing the door.

Sirius smiled at her, glancing down at the sketches.

"We're all done, Cat," he said. "Draw anything pretty?"

"I've managed three lines that are very nearly straight, but that's about it."

"Do they connect?"

"No."

He smirked and shook his head.

"Listen, Marlene's going to make you some lunch. I need to runs some errands for the Order. I'll be around before dinner. Is there anything you need while I'm out?"

She gave him a smile she hoped didn't look bitter and said, "If you could find an identity while you're out and about, that'd be grand."

His smirk melted into a sad smile and he just nodded at her before turning and going. She could smell cigarette smoke in the place where he'd stood as she left the bedroom for the kitchen, and she wondered what had irritated him. He only smoked when something upset him. Likely, he wouldn't be allowed to tell her.

Marlene was making cold ham sandwiches when Catherine went into the kitchen, and the two women smiled at each other tightly. Catherine's smiles were usually tight, but there must have been bad news at the meeting for Marlene to be so tense and cool. The woman grew more friendly as she went about making lunch, but Catherine couldn't help but notice that she didn't grow any more at ease.

Bad news indeed.

/-/

Sirius passed the powdered bicorn horn to Caradoc under Caerleon Bridge and pulled out a fresh cigarette.

"You half-smoke enough of those things," Caradoc said darkly, "and it'll be just as bad as smoking them whole, Black."

All kinds of theories existed for why Sirius only half-smoked his cigarettes, but James was the only one who had hit on it close enough for Sirius to believe him. James insisted that Sirius didn't have the attention span to smoke a cigarette to completion. It didn't have anything to do with waste or health or whatever. There just seemed to be too many things to do to ever finish one.

"You're worried about the girl, aren't you?"

"Did you?" Sirius asked gruffly.

Caradoc had a cousin who was a Healer, and he said he'd do a spell to figure out roughly how old Catherine was. There were ways of measuring a magical core, much more accurate than biological measurements. It was how Hogwarts knew when and who to send letters to.

"Yeah, but I'm not a Healer, Sirius. I don't know if I did it right."

Sirius frowned at Caradoc. The man was a formidable wizard, even for being overly humble in his abilities.

"Right, well, I would say definitely seventeen, but barely. Definitely closer to seventeen than eighteen, if you know what I mean. If I had to put her in a Hogwarts class, I would have put her a couple of years behind you lot."

"So she should be at Hogwarts."

"If she weren't homeschooled, yeah, she would be at Hogwarts still. Sixth year almost certainly."

Sirius didn't know why, but this seemed to be something he had already known, and he took a few drags of his cigarette. Catherine didn't seem like the girls at Hogwarts, but maybe that came from being homeschooled. She didn't like to gossip, she didn't preen, she didn't even worry about not getting any kind of education. There were spells she knew and spells she didn't, and while he'd never seen her struggle with anything, she seemed just as comfortable doing things without magic as she did with, almost like Lily at times.

But then, only wealthy Muggleborns could homeschool, people whose parents could afford a private tutor. And if she was that, her mannerisms were all wrong, and she would have been found already. There would be things in the Muggle news, at the very least.

The weirdest thing about Catherine was that nobody seemed to be looking for her. If she'd been an orphan she would have gone to Hogwarts for certain. Unless, of course, she was orphaned recently, and there was no one left to look.

"Eventually, we'll figure her out, Sirius," Caradoc said softly. "And don't freak out at me, but if Mad-Eye is right, in whole or in part, what are you going to do?"

Sirius took another drag of his cigarette and looked up at the cloudy sky. So many secrets around the Order table. Remus and whatever he was doing. Caradoc and all the mysterious things he was up to. All the private briefings Dorcas had to give. Half the things Mad-Eye couldn't say, Sirius didn't even want to guess. And now there was a spy.

"I guess we'll see if it ever comes to that," Sirius said. "I imagine you've got places to be, then."

Caradoc said nothing, simply nodding once and melting into the shadows. Sirius didn't try to watch him go, although he very much doubted that he could have managed it. Caradoc could be more invisible than anyone else Sirius knew, when he wanted. Instead, Sirius walked along the water long enough to get about halfway down his cigarette before tossing it into the water and Disapparating.

/-/

Sirius and Catherine had a dinner that Marlene made and left for them, and they shared a glass of wine by the fireplace that night. He smelled very strongly of cigarette smoke and potions ingredients, but as he had said he was out on Order business, Catherine didn't feel right asking him about it. Instead, she thought she'd ask him about other things.

"Why don't you cook?" she asked, sipping her wine.

"Hmm?"

"Well, somebody else always makes us dinner. I've never seen you make anything but sandwiches or eggs or toast or something."

"I can do a full fry-up," he said proudly, smirking at the firelight. "I mean, I can't ever get the tomatoes just right, but I've never met anyone who can except for Mum and Lily, so I don't stress about it."

"But you can't make dinners."

Sirius didn't answer for a while. He took a long drink of his wine set down his glass, and leaned toward the fireplace, holding his palms up to the fireplace. There was something childlike in the motion, something Catherine found endearing and enviable.

"My parents didn't cook," he said. "We had a house-elf. It wasn't a skill they thought I needed, and if I'd stayed at home I probably wouldn't have. Mum taught me the basics of finding my way around a kitchen, and Lily taught me how to use Muggle implements and pre-made meals and stuff." He grinned at her. "Can you cook?"

"I don't know," Catherine said, blushing and shrugging. "I don't think so. I tried to fry some bacon while Peter was with me for those two days, and if it hadn't been for Mr. Moody showing up, we would probably have burned the house down between us."

That bark laugh happened again, and Catherine was finding that it didn't startle her like it used to. In a strange way, she found it soothing. Like having a beloved pet at her heels.

"Pete's useless in a kitchen. Can't even make toast without burning it." Sirius took another long drink of wine, finishing off his glass and setting it behind him on the side table. He leaned back against the sofa, closing his eyes.

Catherine took a guilty moment to admire him in the firelight. As much as she tried not to notice, she thought he was almost disgustingly attractive. He was charming, graceful, self-assured, and surprisingly kind. He wasn't so much older than her, but there were times when he was almost paternal, protective and well-traveled, someone who had seen so much more life than she had.

Without opening his eyes, he asked, "Have you had any more memories?"

Oh, she certainly wished that she did have more memories, as much as she was enjoying her time with the Order. But she nibbled her lip for a moment before saying, "Well, I think I was wearing slippers. Purple ones."

To her surprise, Sirius sat bolt upright, eyes wide as he looked at her.

"Slippers?" he said like he'd never heard the word before. "You're sure?"

"I'm really not sure of anything," she said, shrugging nervously. "But I have a very vivid picture of them on my feet. At least, they'd have to be my feet from the angle. Why?"

"Well, you were found barefoot."

There was a long silence between them as they both pondered the mysterious missing slippers.

"You were wearing them in bed?"

"I guess so. I remember getting into bed with them on, and I don't remember taking them off."

"Maybe they're still in the forest."

Catherine hummed. He didn't say that maybe whoever left her in the forest took them from her for some reason. She could almost picture a letter on them, but she couldn't think of what it was. A letter? A crest? A picture?

Sometimes she thought it was an S or an elaborate L, or maybe a snake or a symbol of some kind. The more she tried to recall it, the less certain she was of what it could be. And she didn't want to tell Sirius before she had a better idea.

The other thing that troubled her, that she wasn't saying out loud, was that in the memory with the slippers, the sheets look different from the memory of the yellow bedroom that she'd had all month. Sometimes the two would blend together, but usually the memories were contrasting, like there were two separate memories in her mind. Two bedrooms?

She wasn't sure, but something about it didn't sit right with Catherine, and so she finished her wine in silence as Sirius pondered the slippers, watching the fire dance in the grate.

/-/

For three weeks, a steady but low number of operations were compromised, presumably by spy knowledge, and none of them were anything Catherine could possibly have known about. The next meeting came and went, and Remus's reaction to the news of there being a spy was exactly as Sirius could have predicted, and Sirius was almost relieved when Remus said that the spy couldn't possibly be Catherine. He wasn't sure why, but it made him more secure, knowing that none of the Marauders suspected her.

"Marlene's still not here yet?" Sirius said, checking his watch. He needed to leave soon if he was going to catch the train with Sturgis. "Second time this week. Did she ever show up the other day?"

Catherine shook her head as she buttered her toast.

The only clue Sirius had that Marlene's absence bothered Catherine was the tensing of her shoulders. It bothered Sirius, too, and he would have to leave a message for someone to check on Marlene. It could be things came up with her family, but she should have left him a message, or arranged for someone else to drop by.

Frustrated, Sirius told Catherine he was going to call in Peter. Peter wasn't busy, unsurprisingly, and he would be able to hang out at the house until Lily finished whatever she was doing for Dorcas and came back to check in with Albus.

"Pete's coming," Sirius said, checking his watch again. He was cutting things fine. "If he asks for breakfast, pour him some milk and give him an orange or something. No cooking, either of you. Lily can feed him if he's still hungry later."

Sirius kissed Catherine's forehead before he realized what he was doing, and she looked up at him, startled, but not necessarily offended.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I dunno why I…." He glanced at his watch again to avoid the questions in her eyes. He had no idea how to answer them. The front door opened. "Pete?"

"Yeah," Peter's voice answered.

"Perfect, I'm running late. I'll be back in the morning. Tell Lily there's no need for groceries, okay? Dorcas brought some Tuesday."

Peter squeaked his agreement as Sirius grabbed his jacket and hurried up the path, Disapparating on the run. Sturgis waved at him from the corner where they were supposed to meet, and Sirius jogged up to him, wishing he'd given himself a bit more time.

"Sorry, mate," he said to his sandy-haired companion. "Marlene didn't show again, had to call in Pete. Have you seen her?"

"Marlene?" Sturgis asked, handing Sirius a train ticket. "Don't think so, not since last Wednesday. Wasn't she supposed to do the last supply run to Caradoc?"

"I don't remember," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck as they walked up to the train station. "I'm sure it's nothing, but maybe we should have someone check in on her. I mean, her family would have reported if she'd gone missing or something. Haven't seen her name in the papers. But they might not have thought if she's ill to let us know. Does her husband even know about the Order?"

Sturgis snorted and said, "Mate, for his sake, I hope he's got no fucking clue. Better not knowing than knowing and not being able to do anything. C'mon, we're going to miss it if we don't leg it."

The two men hurried to their train, and Sirius immersed himself in usefulness, all stress and strangeness of his morning forgotten.

 **A/N: So, we have a spy, but no one knows who it is. Catherine is of age, but barely. And her few tidbits of memory are starting to conflict… Hmm…**

 **Review Prompt: Provided you had no idea that Peter was the spy, if you were in the Order, who would you think was the spy? Remus? Caradoc perhaps? Dorcas?**

 **I think I would be tempted to suspect someone with regular access to darker elements, like Remus or Dorcas. Easy to pass information back and forth, and if someone's already spying for the Order, wouldn't it be that much easier to spy ON the Order?**

 **-C**


	6. An Inkling

Sirius arrived back to headquarters to find Lily making a fry-up for him, and Catherine sipping a cup of tea, an empty plate in front of her.

"Alive and well, then?" Lily teased as he waved, grinning. "Where did you sleep last night?"

"My cousin lives near the drop site. She put me up. Smells delicious."

"Oh, is that the paper?"

Sirius nodded, dropping it on the table. He'd picked it up from the owl that arrived almost exactly as he did. He hated reading the news anymore, but it was best to keep informed.

Lily set down his plate of food and was just grabbing a cup to pour him some tea when she gasped and dropped it, the ceramic shattering. She quickly cleaned up and mended the cup while Sirius turned the paper around to see what had shocked her. He opened it up and saw the headline, saw the picture of the Dark Mark glowing sinisterly in the sky above a very familiar house.

The McKinnon family home, all six dead. His stomach seemed to have dropped out from underneath him. This was why her family hadn't reported anything. There was no family left to report. They lived in a cottage outside a village far enough that no one would have noticed anything strange. Apparently a friend went by to ask them over for tea and found the Mark still hovering, called in the Aurors right away.

"Even the children," he said to Lily, who was, sniffing, trying not to cry.

"What?" Catherine asked, glancing at the paper. "Oh. McKinnon. That's Marlene's surname, isn't it?"

Sirius nodded, and Catherine soaked in that Marlene was dead. She wasn't crying, didn't seem excessively moved, but she was definitely sad about it.

"What's that?" Catherine asked, tracing her finger across the picture of the Dark Mark. "Strange symbol."

"The Dark Mark," Lily said. "Voldemort's supporters put it above houses they've hit to create fear."

Catherine frowned at it, tracing her finger over it again and again, and Sirius watched her, feeling a strange and paralyzing foreboding. He had a horrible feeling that she was remembering something, and he wasn't sure he wanted to know what it was if it was tied to the Dark Mark.

"There's something familiar about it," she said softly. "Like…like maybe I've seen it before, but…but not like this. It was dark on light, like…like a drawing or a…." She pursed her lips, closing her eyes. "Not the whole thing. Just the bottom of it, just this part here." She wasn't looking at it, but she was pointing at the bottom curve of it.

"Over your home?" Lily asked encouragingly.

"No," Catherine said, squeezing her eyes more tightly shut. "There's no house. I think I'm inside somewhere. Not here. It's…" She shook her head again. "I can only see the bottom, and there's something light behind it. It's dark. Maybe black, maybe like a really dark blue or brown."

"The Mark is green," Sirius said softly, frowning. "Even if it was daylight out. It's a green sort of cloud mist thing."

"Great descriptor," Lily said dryly. "Just try, Cate. Do you know why you can't see the whole thing?"

Catherine rubbed her temples, and Sirius glanced up at the clock. People would start arriving for the meeting soon, and he was supposed to get her to her bedroom and secured so she couldn't hear anything. But if he disrupted her now, she might not remember it again later, not as clearly. He hesitated, glancing at Lily, who was watching Catherine intensely.

"There's something covering it," she said, sounding much more sure of herself.

"Like blocking it?"

"No, covering. Over it, like… Like an umbrella covering someone's face or a sofa cover that doesn't make the floor or…." She shook her head, growling slightly with frustration, and Sirius was surprised to find that the slightly feral sound aroused him. He bit his tongue lightly in an effort to focus.

She continued to try to reconstruct the scene, sights and scents, anything that would help, but she was getting very little progress and only growing more frustrated as Sirius finished his breakfast and several early Order members arrived. The arrivals always looked initially puzzled as they entered and found Catherine sitting there, but none argued when they realized Lily and Sirius were questioning her about a memory that seemed to be emerging. Peter looked puzzled when he and Moody came in last of all, but before Mad-Eye could object, Dumbledore held up his hand and gave the Auror a stern look. The Prewett twins started listing all the things other than a sketch that could be dark on light and a picture.

"A photograph. An etching?"

"An advert."

"Word art."

"Stained glass."

"Stained glass? Bugger all. Book cover. T-shirt."

"Who would have a t-shirt of the Dark Mark? Tattoo."

"Tattoo," Catherine said, her eyes opening with shock. "Peter's tattoo."

Sirius laughed. Peter didn't have a tattoo. If he'd gotten a tattoo, they would have all known about it, teased him relentlessly. It would have been a good source of amusement during the stag night. But Catherine looked quite sure of herself, and the laugh died on Sirius's lips, and he turned to Peter, who looked a bit pale, but otherwise his normal self.

"What tattoo?" Lily asked.

"He was handing me something, and his sleeve shifted a bit, and it was on his arm."

"Which arm?" Dumbledore asked.

"Left."

Mad-Eye grabbed Peter's arm roughly and yanked the sleeve up so forcefully that the fabric ripped, and Sirius thought the world stopped in that moment. There, on Peter's pale forearm, was a perfect, detailed rendition of the Dark Mark, as a burning black tattoo, just like Catherine had said. He looked up at Peter's eyes, almost hoping to find answers there, but it was like looking at a stranger. Not the sweet, bumbling, eager little boy Sirius had grown up with, been friends with, almost brothers. A stranger stood there, and he'd been spying, and if Catherine hadn't seen a small part of the Mark on his arm and recalled it, he likely wouldn't have been suspected.

Because who would have ever suspected Peter of deception?

"What's that mean?" Catherine asked in a small voice, but the tremble in her words told Sirius that she had a pretty intelligent guess.

"It means we've found our mole," Mad-Eye growled, pulling Peter out of the kitchen. "And he and I are going to have a little chat. We'll use the linen closet, Albus. You won't hear a thing. Carry on as usual."

Dumbledore frowned but nodded as Peter was led away, and the Order sat around the kitchen table in silence, everyone a bit pale.

First Marlene dead, now Peter as a spy. The world had seemed such a different place when Sirius woke up that morning.

"I'm sorry," Catherine said, nervously. "I didn't mean to cause a problem. I just…. Well, he was in a hurry before the wedding and I guess he didn't think I'd seen enough—"

"The wedding?" Sirius asked, his blood boiling, as he glanced across at Remus who looked like he was going to cry, and James who looked like he was about to sick up on the table.

"Yes."

She'd seen the Mark before the wedding. Peter sold out Lily and James's wedding of all things. He'd shared drinks with them in the night expecting for them all to be dead by the next night.

"I'm going to kill him," Sirius growled.

"No, Sirius," Dumbledore said softly. "You will escort Catherine to her bedroom, and you will return to the meeting. Alastor knows what to do with Mr. Pettigrew. We will need new headquarters, of course. For the time being, my dear, you will stay in Sirius's flat, if that's not inconvenient."

Sirius shook his head, not really registering. It sounded perfectly reasonable to him, and he got up to put Catherine in the bedroom, his hands shaking.

"I'm sorry," she said, brown eyes wide as he went to shut the door, and he paused. It felt too much like slamming the door in her face, and he just stared at her for a moment.

Then he said, "Cat, you've got nothing to be sorry for. If anything, you probably saved a lot of lives, maybe including mine. So thank you."

Without thinking about it, without really thinking or processing anything, he pressed a kiss to her lips briefly, then closed the door and hurried back into the kitchen, anxious not to miss a word of what was shaping into a very important meeting indeed.

/-/

Catherine felt too nervous to go out and tell Sirius that he forgot the spell to block sound, that she could hear everything in the meeting. Mostly, she was too far away to hear anything more than the sound of voices anyway, but when the door closed up the hall from the linen closet, when Mr. Moody did whatever he was going to do with Peter, who made no sounds, and rejoined the meeting, that was when the sound became very loud.

"That's one snake out of our midst."

Catherine closed her eyes, but the image of that tattoo was so clear in her mind, the snake coming out of a skull's mouth. She shivered. She didn't think she liked snakes much.

"She's not, Mad-Eye. If she was some kind of sleeper, as you've claimed, why would she give up Peter?"

Sirius's voice. Angry, frustrated. Then Lily said something more softly, and Catherine couldn't make it out.

"Well, he wouldn't give up the other spy, would he?" Mr. Moody roared. "And it's very likely they thought he was running his course of usefulness, that she was supposed to give him up at some point to cement her own credibility, get our guards down. Constant vigilance!"

"She's not a spy!" Sirius cried. "She's a scared girl who doesn't even know her own last name for Merlin's sake! She can't even cook bacon!"

There was something in those words that stung at Catherine, and she couldn't get her hands to stop shaking. She looked around the room, trying to think over what she was hearing even as she tried to block it out. Someone else was speaking, softly again. Perhaps Albus, or maybe the kind man named Doge.

What better way to hide a spy than the spy not even knowing what they were? Easier to eliminate memories than be discovered in falsehoods. But she didn't even know what her mission was supposed to be.

But memories could be triggered, a nasty voice in her head told her, and if she met with a trigger that awakened some kind of programming, some kind of past that made her dangerous to the Order, to Lily and James and Remus….

To Sirius.

She closed her eyes so tightly that they ached, but as many times as she told herself that she wasn't a spy, she couldn't be sure, because until she had her memories back, either man yelling in the kitchen could be right.

If Sirius was right, and she ran away for no reason, then the worst thing that could happen was she might die the way the lost and the mad die pointless, faceless, nameless deaths on the street. The number of unknown bodies in the list of the dead was enough to tell Catherine that she might die such a death.

But if Mr. Moody was right, if she was some kind of spy, and she didn't leave before she hurt someone…

 _If anything, you probably saved a lot of lives, maybe including mine._

To save his life and then to maybe end it. She didn't want to hurt them. She didn't want to hurt Sirius. She began to struggle to breathe, and she looked around the room, dizzy. She didn't need much to survive, theoretically. If she waited until the others left, took some food, a jacket, shoes, she could walk out and survive for a while, until she found more food. It had to be before nightfall, because then she and Sirius were supposed to move to his flat, and she couldn't leave from there. It seemed more terrifying, trying to lose herself in London versus the woods. After all, she was found in the woods. The closest thing to a home that she knew.

She spent the rest of the meeting trying to breathe, trying not to cry, but everything seemed so impossible.

/-/

Sirius was packing up the bathroom with shaking hands as he heard the sound of someone in the kitchen. For the briefest of moments he told himself it was just Catherine, but they'd already eaten dinner, and she was supposed to be packing up her room. He pulled out his wand, dropped the soap he'd been holding into the bathtub, and crept into the hall.

She wasn't in her bedroom. The door was wide open, the light off, and no sign of her. As he moved toward the front of the house, the sounds in the kitchen stopped, and the kitchen door opened. Whoever it was, they were going to leave, maybe with an unconscious Catherine in tow. Sirius could feel his heart pounding at the base of his jaw as he hurried forward, and he stumbled backward slightly with surprise to see Catherine there, an old rucksack from the closet in hand, wearing a jacket.

"That's all you're bringing?" he said, confused. "Cat, what were you doing in the kitchen?"

She blinked at him, stunned, and her mouth worked for a moment without sound. It took him a split second to realize, when she began to tremble, that she wasn't packing to go to his flat.

"What are you doing?" he asked, wincing internally at the stern voice he was using, and the way she shrank at it. He felt like he was yelling at a wounded animal, and he hated himself for it, but the words of Mad-Eye were ringing in his ears.

"I don't want to hurt you," she whispered, eyes wide.

"What?" he asked, stunned. Was Mad-Eye right?

"I heard Mr. Moody," she said, her eyes filling with tears, her hands trembling. "What if I'm supposed to hurt you? What if I was sent here to hurt you? I don't want to hurt you. I should go."

The realization that he'd not remembered to keep her from hearing the meeting in all the chaos with Peter hit him, but not as hard as the realization that she was willing to leave the only safe place she had, the only thing she knew, just to not hurt him.

Them. Not to hurt them.

"You've been so kind," she said, a few tears leaking onto her cheeks. "And you've done so much, and I don't think I could live with myself if I hurt you."

Sirius told himself that those were plural you's, that she was talking about the Order, but every time she said that word it sounded like she was speaking just to him, and he felt a curious sensation of loss at the thought of her leaving him.

"Where would you even go?" he asked, taking a step forward. When she didn't back away, he came closer, taking the rucksack, setting it on the ground. She didn't fight, and he took her hands in his hands.

She began to cry. She didn't have anywhere to go, and she knew it. She was just going to walk out into the woods with a bit of clothes and some food, to walk out of his life forever. Did she think he wouldn't care? That he wouldn't look for her? He pulled her into a hug, holding her trembling body against his chest as she tried to calm herself.

"Mad-Eye's paranoia is legendary," he said gently. "If he could check everybody's arm three times a day and give us truth serum interrogations every morning for breakfast, he would do it. The kind of magic required for what he's talking about is insane, Cat. They could do it, but it's a lot of work and a massive risk on their part. Plenty of ways for it to backfire." She gripped at his shirt and he kissed the top of her head without thinking about it. He thought she might have relaxed slightly in his arms, but maybe that was wishful thinking.

Still, he kept speaking.

"The last thing I want is to lose someone else right now," he said. "Peter was my friend since eleven, almost a brother. And I've lost him, for the rest of my life. I don't think I would know what to do if you left me, especially right now."

She looked up at him with eyes so wide, shining from the hall light and the tears.

"What if he's right? What if I'm a spy?"

"Then we'll figure out what to do later," he said, trying to tease, tapping her nose, wishing he knew what he would do if that were true. "But now, you're not, and you haven't got anywhere else to be. So shall we go to my flat, please? And promise you won't try to leave me in the middle of the night?"

She hesitated, but she agreed, and Sirius trusted her like he didn't think he trusted much of anything at the moment.

/-/

Peter did not open his eyes immediately. He tried to remember what had happened, how he got to be laying down on what felt like a cold stone floor. Marble, possibly? The smell of the place was familiar, but he was too groggy to place it.

Mad-Eye interrogated him, although Peter really didn't recall much of that. He strongly suspected truth serum. He wasn't sore enough for torture. But how did he get to where he was?

Wryly, he thought that perhaps Catherine's sufferings were contagious, but then a high, cold voice spoke.

"I know you are awake, Wormtail."

Peter shivered. He wished he'd never told the Dark Lord of that particular nickname. He'd never liked it to begin with, and to hear it in that voice….

He opened his eyes and looked up at the Dark Lord. He was on the floor of the entryway of Lestrange Manor, a place he'd been to a lot lately, it seemed. Only not from down here. Everything looked different from floors, and few knew that as well as Peter. In rat form, the world was a different place, and if he didn't always keep his wits about him, he would already be dead.

"You were delivered with a note attached to your cloak," the Dark Lord said. "A discovered spy doesn't have much use, now, does he? Especially not with other things we have in motion. Of course, I hadn't wanted to put them into motion so quickly, but you're of little use to me now."

Peter's heart beat frantically, so violently that he could feel it in his ears. It seemed the only thing he could hear as the Dark Lord raised his wand. His vision was blurred, his hearing not functioning as it should, but he knew the incantation anyway. Even through the eyes he closed tightly, he could see the brilliant green light that filled the room, and then he saw nothing.

 **A/N: So, we don't have any BIG clues about who Catherine is, but there's my first big change of the story! I'd love to get y'alls thoughts on Peter, on Catherine's mysterious situation, on what life will be like now Sirius and Catherine are holed up in a London flat together instead of a house in the woods with people coming and going.**

 **Review Prompt: If you could pick anyone from this era for me to write in their POV, who would it be?**

 **-C**


	7. Unleashing

When Catherine opened her eyes to the sound of showering, she had to remind herself that she was in Sirius's flat now, and the bathroom was attached to the bedroom.

Stupidly, he was still insisting that she sleep in the bed while he used the sofa, even in his own space, even though Catherine insisted that she didn't mind sleeping on the sofa. Perhaps he didn't trust her not to leave in the night if she slept closer to the way out.

She stretched, walked out the open bedroom door to his kitchen area, and poured a bowl of cereal from the cupboard he'd pointed out before bed the night before. Lily would be bringing them groceries that afternoon, when she relieved Sirius to do something for the Order.

Sirius must have gotten the paper, because it was flat out on the counter, unopened. Catherine leaned over it, wanting to get a sense for the kind of mood Sirius would be in when he got out, whether it was a good news day or a bad news day.

When she saw the headline of Peter Pettigrew found dead in the middle of the Muggle village where he'd been raised, goosebumps raised on her skin and she pushed it away, afraid to read the article. She put the kettle on without thinking about it and returned to her cereal, trembling without realizing.

Peter's death was her fault, she thought. Whatever he'd done, he'd always been so nice to her, and she felt somehow responsible, if not for his death than at least for the gruesome way it happened. If she hadn't been so blunt, so public, perhaps there would have been some way to save him, to turn him, to make him good again. Now it was too late.

/-/

When Sirius read the paper, he hadn't known what to think, what to feel. Peter was killed because he was discovered, but he'd been a spy in the first place, and Sirius hated him for that. Still, it was hard to believe that the boy he'd known for so long had been a spy. He'd thought to take a shower, since he'd need to do one before Lily came round, and when he'd seen Catherine in his bed, he'd felt two things.

The first was that she looked so peaceful and beautiful, sleeping, spread out in his bed. She didn't know what had happened, didn't have the weight of Sirius's worries. She had her own worries, but they seemed so distant while she was sleeping. He wondered what she dreamed about, and he wondered if she ever dreamed of him.

He also felt a strange pride and arousal at the sight of her in his bed. There had been a mingling of the smell he'd come to associate with her and the smell that he associated with him, with his space, and he'd found the scent distracting all night. But to smell it so strongly when stepping into his own bedroom, it had been momentarily overpowering. Sirius had a brief thought of kissing her, of waking her and then kissing her, or kissing her to wake her. He wanted to touch the smoothness of her skin. He wanted to feel her hair between his fingers.

So he shivered through a cold shower and told himself that it would be taking advantage of her. Yes, she was of age, but she was a child in so many ways. For all he knew, she was seeing someone. She might even be married. Or maybe part of her trauma was being raped, and what kind of a dirty man was he, thinking such thoughts of a lost, innocent girl?

Sirius squeezed his eyes shut tight and tried to think of something, anything other than kissing every scar on her body, but the more he tried to think of toast or the way Lily sometimes snorted when she laughed too hard, his mind kept going back to Catherine, and the sight of her in his bed.

She was attractive. He was willing to admit that much, but he couldn't, shouldn't act on it. And he had to stop unconsciously kissing her head and face, because he might unconsciously kiss her lips one of these days, and then what might he do?

He told himself not to think of that. Think of Peter, he said to himself, think of being betrayed. Think of what you have to do, and what Caradoc will need the next time you see him.

Catherine would need more clothes. The weather would be changing soon.

Sirius groaned, and gave in to thoughts of her. His mind wouldn't let him rest until he did, it would seem. He let his imagination take control, and as satisfying and delicious as it was, he couldn't help feeling as he came into his hand that somehow he had defiled something pure. Maybe this was what Moony felt like after a full moon of craving blood.

/-/

Remus was exhausted, but he made it to Sirius's flat alright, bleeding, but not anything Sirius wouldn't know what to do with it. He knocked on the door vigorously, and he just managed to see Catherine's beautiful eyes looking down at him, wide and afraid, before he lost consciousness.

/-/

Catherine watched as Sirius stripped off Remus's shirt for a better look at the wound that had caused the man to faint. She handed him damp towels as asked, and watched as Sirius performed a series of healing charms, and although none of them healed the wound completely, they stopped the bleeding, and she could see that the skin had come together more than it had been a moment ago, with fresh, pink skin right around the wound. Sirius took a fresh towel and a scarf and fashioned a bandage out of the two things, because it didn't take a genius to guess that the wound would bleed again before it healed.

"Tea," Sirius said as he tipped a potion against Remus's lips. "He's going to need it."

As she put the kettle on, as Sirius started tending to smaller, shallower wounds, Remus's eyes fluttered open. He smiled weakly at Catherine when he saw her, and when he tried to sit up he winced and groaned before falling back to the sofa.

"Serves you right," Sirius said lightly, "scaring poor Cat like that. You weren't due back yet, mate. What happened?"

"I was discovered," Remus sighed. "Can you contact Albus, tell him he's lost his spy with the wolves."

Catherine frowned, wondering what that meant for a moment, before she glanced at the calendar.

Werewolves. The last night had been a full moon, and Remus had been with werewolves. But the only person who could spy amongst werewolves was….

She looked back over at Remus, who looked so weary, so fragile, rough scars covering his face and torso. How long had he been a werewolf, to have so many scars? She thought she should have been afraid of him, but she wasn't scared. Maybe because Sirius wasn't scared.

"Tea," she said, passing it to Sirius, who put it in Remus's weak hand.

"Peter probably told them," Remus sighed. "I should have known something like this would happen."

"Remus, Peter's dead," Sirius said softly. "His body was found in the middle of his village, his mum was completely distraught."

Catherine stepped out of the room, feeling that she ought to give them a bit of space for their mourning. She went into the bathroom, feeling a strange swimming sensation, like the room was full of liquid she could breathe.

None of them were what she thought they were, it seemed. Was Sirius what she thought? Was Lily? But then, she wasn't even sure what she was, so how could she really judge?

/-/

"She gets more beautiful every time I see her," Remus sighed, rubbing at a sore spot on his neck.

"Who did this, Remus?" Sirius asked softly, not wanting to think about Catherine's beauty. "Which wolf?"

Remus hummed and frowned, and that was answer enough for Sirius. Greyback, the wolf who was always the source of Remus's troubles, it seemed. Sirius gave Remus a few minutes alone with his tea and stepped out to send a message to Dumbledore. By the time he came back, Catherine had come back into the room and was sitting beside Remus on the couch, speaking with him in a soft voice, cleaning some of the mud and dried blood from his face. Sirius felt a sharp stab of something in his chest to see that soft look on Catherine's face, and that rapturous, adoring look on Remus's face. Sirius wanted to pull her closer, to claim her, but he knew it would be absurd.

"Dumbledore knows," Sirius said, smiling the best he could when Catherine and Remus looked up at him. He told himself that Remus got a bit loopy after the moon, and that Remus wouldn't go for her, anyway.

Not that it mattered. Because Sirius wasn't going to touch her.

He made another pot of tea while they waited for Dumbledore to arrive, and then followed Catherine into the bedroom, although he wasn't sure why he'd done it. She was looking out the window, watching the street below, and Sirius crossed to her, looking out to see a few small girls following their mother up the street.

"The world is so strange, isn't it?" she said, frowning. "Remus could have died, but the world just keeps on turning."

Sirius hummed.

She looked up at him, and he wondered when they had gotten so close. Something in the pit of his stomach squirmed, and he felt an ache, looking down at her, his eyes tracing down to her lips.

Maybe she whispered something. His name? He didn't know. He wasn't sure of anything, except the fact that he could taste her breath in the moment before he pressed his lips to hers.

They were unbelievably soft, and somehow his hands were on her waist, and he was pulling her body closer, and she sighed against his mouth, which was a sensation Sirius found he quite liked. Her hand was on his neck, her cool and delicate fingers, and Sirius felt almost breathless, pressing his lips more forcefully to hers, pulling her body flush against his, and he finally had to pull out of the kiss when he lost his breath, and they looked at each other, eyes wide, panting.

With a weak smile, Sirius whispered, "Did that strike any memories?"

She smiled back, thankfully, and shook her head.

"For you?" she asked shyly.

Sirius shook his head in turn, before pressing his forehead to hers. He was trying to think why he'd denied himself that pleasure, and why he shouldn't just kiss her again, but then he remembered that Remus was in the other room with Dumbledore, and that if he let himself kiss her again he might do something more than kiss her, and he didn't want that to happen. Because Dumbledore might think it prudent to take her away, to put her with someone else, and he couldn't imagine not having her with him at this point.

"We should go back out to the other room soon," he whispered.

"You should, anyway," she said back.

He waited for her to pull out of his hold before taking a deep breath and going back out into the front room to see what was to be done about Remus now that he was injured and unable to go back to the werewolves.

/-/

Albus noticed the slight tinge of pink in Sirius's cheeks as he reentered the room, the glow in his eyes and the way breathing seemed more difficult for him. This sort of thing was bound to happen sooner or later, with two attractive people who had grown so close so quickly. Had Albus had serious qualms against the union, he would have warned Sirius to begin with, but it might turn out to be good for the pair. Catherine seemed to grow more at ease with affection, and Sirius had never really had the benefits of a loving relationship beyond the brotherly with the Marauders.

And after Peter's betrayal and loss, it could be healing.

Of course, Alastor wouldn't like it, but Alastor didn't like much of anything to do with Catherine. Like so many men used to looking for the worst in people, Alastor's intuition was hardly ever totally wrong, but it was rarely completely right. Albus did worry that a betrayal from Catherine might do extensive damage to Sirius, who already struggled with relationships.

"I think, if Sirius is willing, we ought to keep you here until your wound is healed, Remus," Albus said gently. "A few days or so."

Sirius looked surprised at this, but he was quick to say that Remus was absolutely welcome to stay as long as he needed.

"What about Catherine?" Remus said, concerned. "I mean, there's really nowhere for me to sleep."

"You take the bed, mate," Sirius said earnestly. "You're injured, and Cat won't mind. No, you take the bed, and I'll fluff the sofa up for Cat, and I'll sleep on the floor. Don't argue, I've done it a hundred times."

Albus remarked that it was good that it was settled, and that he would check in again in a few days to make a further determination, but until then, it would be good if Sirius could focus on taking care of Remus and Catherine, and perhaps doing some Order work from home.

"Like what?" Sirius asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

With a crook of his finger, Albus had Sirius follow him to the far end of the kitchen before whispering, "There are a few letters Dorcas lifted on one of her tea parties that I need you to take a look at. Anything you can tell us about who might be mentioned, what some of the codes are, handwriting, anything. They don't include addresses or names, just first initials. You know the sort."

Sirius nodded, very familiar with the strange quirks of the upper echelons of wizarding society. Albus said that Dorcas would drop by the letters in the morning, and wished them all a very good night.

/-/

After the end of the three days, the night before Dumbledore was supposed to come back and check on Remus's wound, Sirius was about to go mad. It wouldn't have been so bad, having Remus stay, if not for the way that Remus was with Catherine. He didn't exactly flirt, but he was so attentive to her, always trying to be close to her, hardly ever leaving Sirius alone with her except when it was time for bed, and Sirius slept on the kitchen floor, which was technically in the same room as her. He could feel his blood boil when Remus would brush her hand, and the idea that she would shower with Remus still in the bedroom, able to just walk in if he wanted, drove Sirius practically to drink.

In fact, he poured himself a shot of firewhiskey before bed that night to take the edge off, since he couldn't leave the room for a cigarette, and he didn't like smoking in front of Catherine. She always looked so concerned when she saw him take out his cigarette case, like she could see in that case all of his frustrations and problems.

He downed the glass in one and pushed it aside, curling up on the roll he'd made of blankets and a pillow. He was just laying his head on the pillow, trying not to think about the gentle sound of her breathing not too far away, when she surprised him by walking up to his roll and standing over him, just looking at him.

Sirius sat up slightly, frowning, trying not to look at her knees, which were right in front of him, because then he would think about her thighs, and nothing good could come of that.

"Is something wrong?" he asked her.

"Come sit with me."

She held out her hand, and he sighed, taking it, letting her pull him to his feet, to the sofa, where she'd set up her own bed for the night. The blankets were soft, warm. Her hand was soft and cool. Sirius sat beside her, trying not to fall into her eyes and forget that Remus was just in the next room, maybe sleeping, possibly not.

"I've missed you," she said softly, looking nervous and confused, like she wasn't sure what to say. Her face said his feelings perfectly.

"I'm right here."

"But not really. Not with Remus here. It's different."

She didn't say that she liked it better when they were alone, but somehow he heard that in the silence, and he felt a surge of pride. Sirius pressed his forehead to hers, aching to kiss her but too afraid to succumb.

"You don't have to sleep on the floor," she whispered.

Merlin, he wished she hadn't said that, and yet the words were so sweet. Sirius shivered.

"Cat, I don't want…. I don't want to tempt myself."

"How do you mean?"

"I…"

He licked his lips and tried to find a way to explain that didn't sound stupid, even in his head. It would have been easier if he'd at least been on a date before, but then Remus was always the one who knew how to talk to women, and James had all the practice. How had Sirius never seen the value in this before? How had he not anticipated meeting a girl like this?

"I don't even know your last name," he said weakly.

"Does that matter for this?"

"It might."

She frowned slightly and he could have kicked himself. It sounded like something stupid his mother would have said, about blood purity, when all he meant was that he didn't want to take what might belong to another man.

"Whatever happens," she said softly, "whoever I turn out to be, I don't think I could ever regret sharing the sofa with you."

Maybe it was the firewhiskey, or maybe it was the smell of her assaulting his nostrils, or the way she was tracing her finger shyly on his wrist, or the pools of her eyes that were not gray….

Sirius allowed her to pull him down so that they were laying together on the sofa, and against all his better judgment, his fingers traced up her calf, to her knees, lingering there only a moment without argument before they went up her thighs into uncharted territory.

Maybe Remus was sleeping. Maybe he wasn't. Neither of them gave it too much thought. Neither of them was particularly interested in thinking when there was so much to feel.

 **A/N: Threshold crossed! Never to be returned from. If you're wondering why it took so long for me to post today, it's not that I wasn't ready at my usual time, but I had to go to my brother's Knowledge Bowl State Tournament. No internet. SO, apologies.**

 **REMEMBER – if I get ten reviews in a given week, you get an EXTRA post. So if you want to see what happens next, like, immediately, gimme ten reviews!**

 **Review Prompt: Imagine Remus is not asleep when Catherine coaxes Sirius into…sofa? He hears everything. Write a review that is his train of thought (or part of your review) as he listens.**

 **-C**


	8. Verge

When James walked into their cottage with slumped shoulders and dull eyes, Lily knew that the news had to be bad news. When his parents took ill, she felt that the news couldn't be good. After all, they were both so old and fragile, and although Euphemia and Fleamont were still so vibrant, they were old for wizards.

"What did the Healers say?" she asked softly.

"Dragon pox," James said after a sniff. "He wasn't doom and gloom, but my mum knows enough to know that they won't be long now."

She wanted to give him words of comfort, but Lily knew that nothing she could say would possibly make things better. Instead, she just nodded slightly, placing her hand on his forearm. James's fingers slid over her hand, cool from the night air. They would have to tell Sirius, and then the rest of the Order.

"They've already planned the funerals," James said, rubbing his eyes. "All I have to do is make a couple of visits to the people they've arranged things with, when the time comes, to pay for things."

His voice was weak and his fingers were trembling, and Lily could feel tears stinging at her eyes. James's parents were such lovely, positive people. They had been so welcoming to her, so pleased with everything to do with James, and that included Lily and the Marauders, everything. When Peter's death was in the papers, Euphemia mourned him like a son.

"We'll tell Sirius tomorrow," James said, turning to bury his face in Lily's hair. "He…. In the morning. I'll go round in the morning."

"Do you want me there?"

He shook his head. Perhaps this was one of those things the boys felt they needed to do alone. Lily didn't feel slighted or unwanted. James and Sirius were a special kind of soulmates, something she could never be a part of, but something powerful and important in its way. Losing Fleamont and Euphemia would mean just as much to Sirius as it would to James.

"I'll run some errands in the morning then, love. Let me know if you need anything before you go to London."

/-/

For weeks, Catherine felt helpless as Sirius came back paler and paler from every visit to Godric's Hollow. When Mr. Potter passed away, she thought he'd go into a depression too deep to come out of, and two days later when Mrs. Potter passed, she poured the firewhiskey down the drain before he woke up because she wasn't sure he'd manage if he had any more.

James and Lily were holding the funeral for both at once, saying that it was Mrs. Potter's dying wish. Although Lily didn't have time to pick up something for Catherine to wear, they did want her there, and Albus said it would be alright.

The need for Catherine to have something to wear seemed to pull Sirius out of bed, and give him a reason for functioning. The idea that he was needed was like medicine for him, and he showered, dressed, and told her they were going to Diagon Alley for some robes.

"What do I wear to a funeral?" she asked. "I don't think I've ever been to one before."

"Black, I suppose," Sirius said, rubbing his cheek absently while he watched her dress to go out. She got a rush when he watched her dress, and it was a silly thing, but she enjoyed even the small excitements.

"Come on, then," she said, kissing him, surprised when he pulled her closer, kissing her deeper.

"Cat, without you," he said heavily when she pulled away from the kiss, "I don't think…."

His voice faded to nothing and she kissed his nose and pulled him to his feet. She was afraid to hear him say such things, because in the back of her mind she could still hear Mr. Moody saying what if she was a spy.

/-/

Sirius felt like a different man, walking through Diagon Alley with Catherine on his arm. He told himself he didn't want to be separated from her in case of crowds, but actually he just liked the closeness required with having her on his arm. She didn't seem to mind, and the wonder with which she looked at all the shops was like a Muggleborn first seeing the wizarding world.

That seemed a bit odd to Sirius, but he supposed it was like she'd never seen it before, given her loss of memory, so he took her into Madam Malkin's without any serious weight on his mind.

"Hello, Mr. Black," the proprietress said kindly. "What can I do for you?"

"We have a funeral to go to," Sirius said solemnly.

"Yes, I heard about the Potters," she said sadly. "What a loss to the wizarding world. Fleamont was such a giving man."

Sirius nodded, feeling gloomy again, until Catherine gave his arm a gentle squeeze. He smiled at her and said to Madam Malkin, "My friend will be going with me and the others to the funeral, but she hasn't really got anything appropriate for the occasion, you see."

"We'll get her all settled," Madam Malkin said cheerfully, looking Catherine up and down quickly before summoning her measuring tape and taking Catherine's measurements.

"Mr. Black, why don't you look at the black dress robes on the back left rack and see if there is anything she might like."

Sirius nodded and went to the rack in question. He really didn't know anything about this kind of thing, except he knew that he had loved the look of the blue dress she'd worn at the wedding. He tried to find something similar on the rack, but there wasn't much choice that would be technically appropriate for a funeral. Sirius pulled a few things off the rack and held them up for the two women, only one of which pleased them both. It was one with long, thin sleeves, and skirts that would probably come down to her mid-calf. Sirius waited anxiously in the front of the shop while the two women went into the back to fit the dress appropriately to Catherine's measurements.

When she walked back out again, Sirius caught his breath. The sleeves hugged her arms with translucent black fabric, and the neckline showed off just her collarbone, but Sirius could feel his heartbeat as he thought about pressing kisses to that collarbone. The dress fitted to her torso, and flared out gently from her waist, falling just a little bit higher than Sirius had anticipated, within the top half off her calf. Demure, and yet somehow sexy.

"Perfect," Sirius said, finding his voice after Madam Malkin cleared her throat. The woman ushered Catherine back to change into her other clothes, and Sirius said, "Charge it to my vault, will you?"

She nodded, putting it into her account book. Sirius hadn't even looked at the price tag, he realized. An old habit from his youth of not having to worry about what things cost. Still, he wouldn't have changed his mind no matter what it cost. He wanted Catherine to have the best, whatever he paid for it.

Madam Malkin wrapped the robes for them and they thanked her. Sirius took Catherine's arm again, feeling a small surge of pride at her wrapping her arm easily around his. Was this how James had felt when Lily agreed to that first date?

They stepped back out onto the street, and they'd only gone a few feet when someone ran right into Catherine, before taking a step back. Sirius immediately recognized his cousin's brother-in-law, Rabastan Lestrange, with his dark hair and gray eyes. He could have been Sirius's brother, like so many purebloods. They were certainly related somehow, but Sirius never bothered to memorize the family tree out too many generations. He had only ever memorized the more questionable relations, like where the Weasleys or the Potters or the Prewetts crossed the Black branches.

Rabastan's initial body language signified that he was about to explode at Catherine, but when he saw her, and when he saw Sirius with her, a small smirk formed at his lips and he said, "Well, well, Sirius. How very interesting."

Catherine was suddenly gripping Sirius's arm very tightly, and although her eyes didn't show recognition, she was certainly afraid of Rabastan. Granted, the man had always had that impact on people, particularly small children. It was a trait he inherited from his father, something of a hardness of the eyes and the way he sneered at almost everything that moved.

"You should probably pay better attention to where you're going, Lestrange," Sirius said coldly. "Wouldn't want you to hurt somebody."

Rabastan was amused, damn him, and he glanced at Catherine, who shrank away from his gaze slightly, like he had raised a fist at her.

"No, we wouldn't want that, now, would we?" Rabastan said softly. "I find, Black, that if I want my precious things to remain unharmed or untouched, it's best I keep them in a safe place and I don't drag them out where just anyone can touch them."

Catherine's nails dug into Sirius's wrist, but her face hadn't changed. Sirius frowned, recalling the bruises on Catherine's wrists when she was first discovered. Whether or not Catherine could recall it, he was beginning to think that Rabastan either had something to do with her state, or he knew something about it.

"C'mon, Cat," he muttered. "Let's not waste our time with him."

"How sweet," Rabastan said as they turned the other way. "A dog and his cat. Don't leave her lying around, Black. Someone else might…snatch her up."

Sirius gripped Catherine's arm more tightly as they walked away, and he Disapparated back to his flat as quickly as possible. Catherine was trembling when they got back to his kitchen, but she wouldn't answer questions. She hurried into the bedroom, locked the door, and he heard the shower running moments later. Sirius collapsed on the sofa, tossing the package onto the side table, and he rubbed eyes, trying to figure out what it was about that exchange that felt so familiar, like he'd seen it before. Not the whole thing, something at the beginning.

But it wasn't coming to him. And Catherine was clearly disturbed, and Sirius felt like the was something he should do, but he didn't know what. Sirius was afraid that when she came out of the shower she would tell him that she was starting to remember how she got to the forest, that it involved kidnapping, perhaps being a prisoner of the Lestranges, maybe even rape or torture. The scenario started to unfold before him before he could stop it, and he picked up an empty glass he'd forgotten to clean that morning. In a fit of rage and helplessness, he threw it against the wall, but the shattering didn't make him feel any more secure, any less nauseous.

When Catherine got out of the shower, though, she said nothing. She didn't want to talk. She didn't seem to want to be touched. She stared down at her knees, or her food, or whatever Sirius put in front of her, but when he tried to take her hand she would shrink away. To Sirius, this seemed to confirm all of his fears, and when she cried in her sleep that night, he didn't know what to do. He was almost looking forward to the funeral just to get her out of the house, out of her head, into a comforting, loving environment, even if everyone was in mourning.

/-/

Remus and Lily took a moment to pull Sirius aside after the funeral, before Sirius took Catherine back to his flat. Remus had mentioned to Lily that Catherine was looking even paler than usual, and Lily had agreed wholeheartedly.

"Is she well, Sirius?" Lily asked nervously, glancing over to where Catherine was listening to the Prewett brothers telling a joke, forcing a weak smile. "She almost looks ill."

Sirius glanced over to her and then turned back to them, leaning in close.

"Don't mention this to anyone yet," he said softly, "but we ran into the younger Lestrange the other day in Diagon Alley. She had a pretty instinctive reaction to him. I don't know if it's a memory or just an impression, but she's pretty shaken." He licked his lips, his hand twitching toward his pocket, the surest sign that he wanted a cigarette. "I think he might have something to do with whatever happened to her. But whatever she's thinking, she's definitely not ready to talk about it yet."

Lily nodded, eyes wide, and Remus felt an instinctive brutality, the need to find Rabastan Lestrange and rip him limb from limb, even if all he had done was frighten Catherine. He had a feeling Sirius felt something similar, a more human version of the primal reaction to protecting a pack member. Sirius had much of the same canine instinct, really had always had it, and his dog form simply made it all the more obvious.

"What are you going to do?" Lily asked softly.

"Kill him," the boys chorused, and she frowned at them. They exchanged a weak smile before Sirius shrugged.

"I'm going to give it a couple of days, see if she starts eating more regularly, sleeping better. If she doesn't speak to me by the end of the week, I'm going to sit her down, maybe with you there, Lily, if that's okay. We'll have to get her to talk then. Maybe it's just an impression and she isn't sure how to manage it, but if it's a memory she doesn't know what to do with…."

The words seemed to die somewhere in Sirius's throat, but Remus knew what he meant. If they were memories she did know what to do with and was still afraid of, they didn't want Mad-Eye getting wind of it before they were sure. Mad-Eye was almost certain to suspect that she was a spy, that seeing Lestrange had triggered some kind of programming, but that didn't seem right to Remus. If that was the case, why was she dejected? Why wasn't she even more confident, even more charming, trying to get people to talk to her? All they did now was worry and wonder.

"Let me know if there's anything I can do, Sirius," Remus said, glancing over at Catherine again. "Do you guys have food for a while?"

"Could stand with some more potatoes," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Dunno where they all go. She hardly eats any, and I feel like I don't eat that many, but they just seem to vanish."

Lily smirked and Remus tried not to laugh. Sirius didn't seem to have a concept of how much he ate over the course of a regular week. Remus assured Sirius that he would pick up some more potatoes and maybe some tea and drop them off in the morning. Perhaps, when he did, he could try to cheer up Catherine, try to get her to talk, or at least to laugh.

/-/

Sirius spent two days thinking that any minute Catherine would tell him what was wrong, and on the second night he was sure, when she called him into the bedroom after dinner, that she was going to tell him everything. He lingered at her side by the window, where they had first kissed, and watched a very nervous look in her eyes as she let them dark around from streetlight to streetlight below.

"Cat," he said softly, but she didn't look at him right away. Sirius pressed a kiss to her head, right on the hairline. She smelled of the shampoo Lily had been getting her, a strawberry scent. He closed his eyes and thought of a place far away, without a war or mysterious circumstances or bigots or pain, where he and Catherine could have a pleasant day at some kind of picnic in the woods somewhere. He could run his fingers through her hair and make her laugh and kiss her until his lips were too tired for one more kiss.

"You won't make me leave, will you?" she asked softly.

"Why on earth would I ever make you leave?" he asked, frowning, a bit afraid.

She looked up at him finally, her eyes wide, confused.

"I don't know," she said softly. "I just have this horrible feeling that I'm going to have to leave, and I don't want to leave you, Sirius. I'm happy here. I'm happy with you. I don't want to leave you. Please don't make me leave."

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into a firm, warm hug, tucking her head beneath his chin as she curled against him.

"Even if there's something better out there," he said softly, "something that could make you happier than I ever could, I wouldn't let you leave me." He closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of her in his arms. "I'm a terribly selfish person, Cat. Just ask Lily and James. I want you to be happy, but I want you to be happy with me. And I'm not sure I could stand the thought of you being happy without me."

She gave a watery laugh and said, "I don't think I could be." Catherine pulled back slightly from the hug and frowned slightly again, a dark, fearful expression for the briefest of moments before she said, "I don't want to hurt you, Sirius. But I don't want to leave you. There's just no…."

She closed her eyes tightly and shook her head firmly, and Sirius gently pulled her into bed. In the morning, he would press her, but for the night he just wanted to let her cling to him, and to pet her until she calmed. He wanted one night without her crying, like before she saw Rabastan Lestrange. One last night of relative happiness before they figured out what this all was about.

 **A/N: Shit's about to get very real. If you're anxious to know what's up with Catherine, now would be a fabulous time to pelt me with reviews to get an early update. Remember, ten in a week span and I update early!**

 **Review Prompt: Last chance for your theories! Some of you have gotten really, really, close, and you now have nearly all the clues you need to get really, really closer. ;) I'm eager to see your thoughts before the reveal!**

 **-C**


	9. Revealed

She was crying silently, slowly, over a cup of tea when Sirius got up in the morning. He almost didn't say anything, thinking that perhaps if he was silent she would wipe her tears and smile again and everything could go back to how it was. But then she looked up at him and he sighed, and the moment was gone.

"Something."

It was all he had to say. She nodded, and looked down at her tea.

"I don't know what it means," she said as he sat at her feet, pulling them into his lap, rubbing the arches gently, with just enough pressure not to tickle her. "But I've been seeing something, and I don't like it. I don't know why, but I know it's something that's going to ruin everything."

"Tell me, love," he said, kissing her knee. "Tell me and I'll do everything to fix whatever's wrong."

She frowned, rubbing the heel of her hand into her forehead. She closed her eyes, perhaps trying to get a clearer picture of whatever she was seeing.

"There's a fireplace," she said softly. "The stone is black, and it's…it's surrounded by a dark wood. And…. Sirius, it's the strangest thing, I think there were animals on the ends of the mantle."

"What animals?"

"Snakes," she whispered, frowning. "They were shining black snakes, with fangs out."

Sirius felt the blood drain from his face, because he knew that fireplace, and he knew it well. Except it wasn't at Lestrange Manor, it was at Selwyn Manor, and whatever was going on here was well beyond his ability to understand.

"Cat, we have to see Dumbledore, and we have to tell him everything," he said softly. "We have to see him now."

"I'm afraid."

"I'm going to be with you," he said earnestly, pressing his hand to her knee, looking up at her wide brown eyes. "I'm going to be with you every moment."

While she finished her tea, he sent a message to Dumbledore that they needed to meet urgently, that Catherine had begun to remember important things, and a message arrived almost immediately that they were to come to Hogwarts with all haste.

They dressed, and Sirius Disapparated them to Hogsmeade, and he walked her up to the gates, where Hagrid met them solemnly. They walked silently up to the castle, up to Dumbledore's office, and Sirius could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing up as he recalled the last time he was standing in front of the wooden door into Dumbledore's office, getting in trouble for some final prank. He hadn't been afraid then, but now he couldn't stop thinking the worst.

"Enter," the tired voice of Dumbledore said as soon as Sirius began to knock, and Sirius gave Catherine one last glance before opening the door.

/-/

Albus nodded as they finished their story, and he looked at Catherine with a variety of possible plans for figuring out her secrets, ones she obviously didn't know she had. Of course, there would be no easy way for it.

"The mind is a complex thing," he said, pressing his hands on the table, and looking specifically at her. "It takes incredibly powerful magic to seal the mind, and even more powerful to do it with such careful specifications. To unseal it, to release your memories, it will be painful, potentially traumatic, and exceptionally difficult. But I feel that we may longer have no choices. Forgive me, my dear."

She was trembling, and Sirius looked afraid for the first time in all the years Albus had known him. He hated having to ask Sirius to wait outside the room. It would only be harder for him if he could see her as Albus released the holds on her mind. The sight would be strain on Sirius that could jeopardize everything.

"I have to ask you to wait outside," he said softly. "It is better to limit distractions. Please, Sirius, it will not be long."

The young man hesitated, but he did ask asked, pausing only to whisper a word of encouragement in Catherine's ear. When the door closed, Albus turned back to Catherine, smiled sadly, and said, "Well, my dear. Let us begin."

/-/

Sirius paced back and forth several times, once even punching the stone wall nearby. What felt like hours later, although it was probably closer to minutes, Dumbledore opened the door again, with a weary look in his usually sparkling blue eyes, and he said, "I will be back shortly. There are some things I must see to. She needs company. Do not press her. She will tell you what she can, and I will return to speak with you shortly."

Nodding numbly, Sirius went back into the office to see Catherine on the floor, trembling. She was hugging her knees to her chest, but she wasn't crying. Just on the off, Sirius would have said she was in shock. He sat down at her feet, placing a hand on her hands where they were locked together. He felt he should say something, but there was nothing to say for the first time he could ever remember.

After several minutes of silence, of her not looking at him but just shaking, she finally said, "Everything I thought I knew was planted. And I…. Sirius, I was so unhappy."

He squeezed her hands and waited. It took several more minutes for her to close her eyes and sigh shakily.

"There's one party," she said softly. "God, I must have been five, maybe six. And I had this beautiful dress. I felt so pretty, so proud. And I…I ran into this man when I was trying to get to the food, and he spilled his wine and he was so angry. His face was just so…angry. And I hurt everywhere. It all happened so quickly, and I think I was screaming or crying or something, but then it suddenly stopped." She paused to wipe a bit of hair out of her face with a shaking hand. "And there was this boy, a little older than me, and he said it was his fault, that he'd run into me and knocked me over. And they didn't do anything to him, but the man left me alone and the boy just walked off. But he hadn't touched me, it was a lie." She shivered. "Like he knew exactly what would happen if he lied for me."

Sirius felt suddenly cold, and he tried to find something to say.

"I never went to any more parties after that," she said, rubbing her temples. "I don't think I ever saw the boy again."

Dumbledore was back with Madam Pomfrey, who did not seem to know exactly what had happened, but she ushered Catherine out of the room with a gentle expression and the promise of something to help her with the shock. Sirius pulled himself off the floor, wondering if he should go with her, but then he remembered that Dumbledore had promised to explain things to him, so he sat down, his head swimming.

"She said it was all not real," Sirius managed to say, but his voice didn't sound like his voice.

"Yes," Dumbledore said softly, pressing the tips of his fingers together. "Yes, unfortunately for the poor girl, someone did a very careful job on her memory. They took away every real memory she had and planted two very specific false ones, one of a bedroom, the other of a name that isn't her name."

Sirius's head jerked up at this.

"Yes, the poor thing. The one thing she was sure of, and it was a lie." Dumbledore sighed. "Her real name is Cara."

At this, Sirius stood abruptly, something tickling the back of his own memory. A young girl he'd met a few times, someone spoken about only in scandalized whispers. Bastard children were an expectation, usually with some whore, or a half-blood secretary or something of the sort, but bastard children between two married purebloods were a ghastly thing, his mother had always said. And as far as Sirius knew, the only one in recent memory was Cara Selwyn, daughter of the wife of the Selwyn patriarch (a Rosier by birth) and the Lestrange patriarch, Rabastan and Rodolphus's father.

"She was raised in shadows," Dumbledore was saying as Sirius was pondering Cara's story. "Very little magical ability, so when she was of age to start showing signs of magic, they hid her away in fear that she would be a Squib and not eligible to make even a marriage on the lower end of the chain of the great families. She did show signs, but late, and received very little training."

 _A little girl, screaming as her own biological father tortured her for staining his dress robes. Sirius had been so angry at the man; he'd taken responsibility for the stains himself. No one would dare touch him, not in public, not like this. The heir of the house of Black. The girl was spared, and Sirius walked away to find his brother to tell him about how stupid Lestrange looked when Sirius stopped his bullying. A grown man, outdone by a seven-year-old boy._

The room felt so cold.

"The idea was something like what Alastor has been suggesting, although not as a spy, but as bait."

Sirius looked up at Dumbledore, horrified.

"It seems to have been your cousin's idea," Dumbledore said softly as Sirius sat down again, collapsing into the chair. "You see, they expected very much that your Gryffindor chivalry would compel you to care for her, to protect her, and so when the time came, when her memories began to be released and we did what had to be done, you would do what you must to keep her safe."

"What do you mean?"

"They will take her back, Sirius," Dumbledore said, his eyes terribly sad. "It is a matter of time, and they will begin to look for her, lay claim, and we cannot keep her."

"But she's of age," Sirius said, outraged. "She can stay! She can run away! I did."

"Your mother did not look for you," Dumbledore said. "The whole plan hinges on old laws, and they have every right to take her back. But you know what will happen if she goes back and you do not follow her."

Sirius nodded, recalling with disturbing ease the news article about Peter's death. A spy discovered doesn't have any use anymore, and they hadn't had any use for Cara Selwyn for years.

"Why me?"

"You are powerful, Sirius. You are talented, and exceptionally pureblooded. You are, in many ways, the symbol of what so many of the Death Eaters are fighting for, and the fact that you of all people have become a blood traitor is a very heavy blow. Not to mention, if they have a hold strong enough on you, they would get much more out of you as a spy than they did out of poor Mr. Pettigrew."

Sirius felt sick to his stomach. If he didn't do this, if he didn't join the Death Eaters, Cara would die. He knew his cousin, knew that whole world, too well to doubt it. But to join the Death Eaters, to do the sorts of things they did for their despicable reasons…. How could he look himself in the mirror ever again?

"I don't think I can."

"You can," Dumbledore said with surprising firmness, "and you will. Because if that girl dies, you will never forgive yourself, and I daresay you are clever enough to lead a double life." Sirius's head jerked up again, astonished at what was being suggested. "Lord Voldemort is not the only one who sees the value of double agents, Sirius."

The room was definitely cold. They should really work harder to do something about that. Sirius stood up, but he was dizzy. The room was spinning.

"I…I need…."

"Talk to the Potters and Remus," Dumbledore said, seeming to read Sirius's mind. "And remember that you may not have much time at all."

Sirius nodded, wanting to go to Catherine – Cara. But she might not even be conscious, and Dumbledore was right. There might be no time. He would see Lily and James.

"Oh, Sirius," Dumbledore said when he'd put his hand on the doorknob. Sirius froze. "I thought you should know that many times when children are young, their eyes, like hair, is lighter than it will be, and then they darken with age. A very common thing, actually. So a person with brown eyes might, as a child, have had eyes that were, perhaps, gray?"

With almost terrifying ease, Sirius could see the five-year-old Cara Selwyn standing before him, with beautiful dark hair, the palest skin, and such brilliant gray eyes. More than a decade later, and here he was again, faced with a choice that could save her, only this time he was no longer a child, and there would be massive consequences whatever he chose.

Childhood over, indeed.

/-/

James nearly dropped the plate he was drying at the sight of Sirius's face looking, well, heartbroken. It was the only suitable word James could think of, and it was an expression he never expected to see on his best friend's face.

"Oh, Sirius, what's happened?" Lily asked, trying to take his coat, only to be shrugged off by a distraught Sirius. "Sirius, what is it?"

"Remus," he said softly. "Get Remus here. I need to tell you all at once."

Lily hurried to call Remus, and James put the kettle on, before digging out a bottle of firewhiskey. Sirius sat at the kitchen table of their cottage with a look on his face like was going to be sick.

"Mate, have some tea, yeah?"

Sirius shrugged. James exchanged a worried glance with Lily when she came back with a puzzled Remus, who must have come through with Floo.

"Four cups then," James muttered to himself, nodding at Remus before getting the tea ready. By the time he passed around the cups, he realized Sirius's hands were shaking.

Very slowly, in a voice strangely strained, Sirius told them of how he'd taken Catherine – who apparently wasn't named Catherine at all – to Dumbledore, and how her memories were unlocked, and how she was actually a tool the Death Eaters were using.

"I don't understand," Lily said, stunned. "What did they hope to gain from it? We haven't let her into meetings. She doesn't know anything."

"It's not about what she knows," Sirius said, slamming the cup down, his face contorting with anger. "It's about me!"

"You?"

"About my bloody chivalry! Do you see, Lily? If I don't go with her when they take her, if I don't make certain she's okay by selling my bloody soul, they'll kill her and they won't even shed a tear, except maybe her stupid cow of a mother." Sirius stood up pacing the kitchen floor rapidly. "And Dumbledore thinks that he can just ask me to spy, like that makes it all better."

James held his breath and looked around at Remus and Lily. Remus was covering his mouth, although it wasn't open, with a shaking hand, and his eyes were on his barely-touched cup of spiked tea. Lily's beautiful green eyes were so wide, it almost looked painful.

If he was being perfectly honest with himself, James had long suspected that someone from Sirius's family would pull some elaborate scheme to pull him back into the fold, although it seemed to be running late, and of a different character than he'd anticipated. But then, Bellatrix had always been a touch sick in the head.

"If you don't do it," Remus said softly, "they'll kill her."

"Yeah," Sirius sniffed, his back to them as he leaned over the sink. He was pressing into the edge of the sink so hard with the palms of his hands that James thought he might even hurt himself.

"And if you go, she'll be okay?"

"I imagine," Sirius said bitterly, "that the deeper into it I get, the more I can guarantee that, but yes, if I sell myself she'll be more or less okay."

"And maybe," Lily said, as if she had an epiphany, "if you get in deep enough, then she'll be safe and we can end this war."

Sirius turned around and looked at her like she'd said something atrocious.

"You don't see it, do you?" he said, near tears. "Don't you understand what this means, Lily? One of those things on my arm, torturing Muggles, Muggleborns, maybe even killing innocent people! My talents, Lily, they're not cerebral. I might have to kill people, maybe a lot of people, just to keep her alive, do you see?"

"Except," James said, frowning at Sirius, "it's not just for Catherine. No, don't, Sirius. Whatever her name is, Catherine will always be her name for me. And you can tell her that's how we all feel, because it is. Sirius, if you do this, if you play this right, you can save more than just her life. You could end the war, save us all. Do _you_ see?"

Sirius shivered, his eyes glued to James's. That they were brothers, in spirit, had never been just a game to James, nor to Sirius. In some ways, Sirius was as much James's soulmate as Lily was, and he knew just how much this choice was tearing Sirius apart. Before freeing himself of the bonds of his family, Sirius had never truly been happy, and when he ran away from home just a few years ago, it was like he'd been given a new lease on life, the lightness of childhood all over again. And now, looking at him, it was like all of that was gone again, and whatever it was Sirius had run away from, it had caught up to him.

"It's so cold in here," Sirius said, his voice something of a croak. "Merlin, is the whole world cold?"

"If you don't do this," James said softly, "they kill her, and they crush you, and they win. And if you do this, the game is still in play, do you see? Because they'll think they've won, but what they're really doing is giving you a new hand to play with. Bellatrix thinks she knows you. So prove her wrong."

Sirius nodded, and the three of them watching him knew that he gave in to what he had all along known he would have to do. Sirius slid to the floor, and Lily got up when Sirius began to sob, but James shook his head, putting a gentle hand on Lily's arm. Without a word, James stood up and led the other two out of the room.

As long as no one said a word, Sirius could pretend that none of them had seen, had heard. There were some things, as Lily had yet to understand, that a Marauder had to do in private.

 **A/N: So… :D Big reveal! Catherine is actually Cara Selwyn, and not exactly a spy but not exactly not. Some of you got surprisingly close to figuring it all out. I'm super impressed. And now Sirius has a terrible task ahead. What's to come? Sirius meets Voldemort. Want to see that meeting soon? Ten reviews gets an early update!**

 **Review Prompt: Now that Sirius is essentially becoming a double agent, who are you most excited to see come into the story from the Death Eater camp? Personally, I'm excited to start showing y'all my version of Sirius's family members (Regulus, Narcissa, Walburga, Orion).**

 **-C**


	10. The Contract

Sirius thought they were going to make it to Christmas and still have her, but two weeks before, Dumbledore came to see him.

"They've come," he said softly, apologetically. "It's time for you to go, Sirius."

"Where?" Sirius asked, feeling suddenly nauseous.

"They've taken her to Lestrange Manor. I expect your cousin's doing. Go after her."

There was no need to tell him twice. Sirius pulled on his best robes and flicked his hair out of his eyes. He half wanted to arrive on his bike just to spite them, but he couldn't afford to spite anyone. If he didn't play his part perfectly, there was a lot more at stake than his own life.

He Apparated.

Sirius walked up the painfully familiar walkway, touched his palm to the gates. It burned slightly, but he knew someone would come to retrieve him. He hardly had to wait any time at all before Rabastan strolled out of the house, confidently up to the gate, smirking.

"Well, well, well," Rabastan said, grinning at him triumphantly. "Looking for someone, Black? I've got a couple of people here who might interest you."

Sirius wondered what that meant, but he said nothing. He simply kept his most controlled and commanding expression and looked back at Rabastan.

Of course, the Lestrange man had never been able to outdo Sirius for self-importance. Being the second son didn't instill the same level of impressive haughtiness, and Sirius had the talent and looks to add on top of that illustrious birthright.

"Come in," Rabastan said, cracking first, giving Sirius a mocking bow before letting him into the grounds, up the garden, into the front entryway of the grand old manor house. Sirius didn't look around at his surroundings, knowing it would take away from his demeanor, but it wasn't necessary. He could recall with crystal clear memory every portrait, every snake on the bannister, every swirl in the marble floor, every crest on the seventeenth-century ceiling. His family had always been uncomfortably cozy with the Lestrange family.

The two men went through a corridor, through a drawing room and a music room, past the side corridor to the kitchens, and into a large dining room, where a very familiar young man was trembling in agony, clutching at his bare arm. Before Sirius's eyes, the pale arm went from flawless skin to blooming with a burning black tattoo of the Dark Mark.

"Regulus," Sirius said softly, having to remind himself that he needed to keep his expression as unreadable as possible.

His little brother straightened up, still twitching with the pain of what had just happened, and he turned with horror and perhaps a tiny bit of shame to see Sirius standing before him, seeing each other for the first time since Sirius graduated Hogwarts.

"Sirius."

"Ah, yes," a cold, high voice said, and Sirius looked at something that could only be called a man in spirit. The face, the eyes, the fingers even were something almost bestial, with slits for a nose, no hair, eyes red and nearly slits, and fingers long and thin and almost bones. "The famous Sirius Black. Bella did say to expect you, but I was not certain your bait would be enough of an inducement. I see she was right about your Gryffindor sensibilities."

Sirius felt that this thing that wasn't a man, but wasn't a beast, was repulsive, yet he took a few steady, almost calm steps forward and said, "You have something I value. And I'm willing to negotiate for its well-being."

The pale, almost-lips twisted into a sinister kind of smile and the thin fingers motioned Sirius to follow him into the drawing room. He did, not sparing his brother a second glance. He could deal with that later.

"Have a seat," Voldemort said, motioning to one of the dark velvet chairs.

"I prefer to stand," he said softly. "Cara."

"The girl matters little to me," Voldemort said, amused. "But she clearly matters a great deal to you. Love, Sirius, is a weakness, whatever that fool has been telling you."

Sirius tipped his head slightly and said, "A weakness?"

"You're here, aren't you?"

Sirius allowed himself to smirk slightly and he folded his hands.

"Call it more, priorities. I would have thought you would disapprove of that sort of use of a young woman of noble bloodlines." Voldemort said nothing, waiting for Sirius to elaborate, so he dug back to the recesses of his teachings from his youth and said, "There's a kind of hypocrisy in the way the elite runs itself, as I am sure you have seen. A woman of noble bloodlines locked away her whole life in spite of having magical ability and a perfectly respectable marriage opportunity, just because she's illegitimate? The world has moved on a bit since those days, I should think, and if this portion of society doesn't adjust in a few ways, they'll die out completely." He sneered, taking full advantage of the opportunity to talk down about his upbringing. "Inbreeding? Culling perfectly healthy branches of the family tree? Restoring dusty old laws to suit when it would be more practical to simply influence new ones?"

Voldemort was amused, perhaps even pleased to hear Sirius's qualms with the pureblood elite.

"Refreshing," he said softly. "I did think there was a chance, a decent chance, that your instincts would be…practical ones. There are many reasons to leave home, after all, are there not?"

"My mother," Sirius said, "is mad."

"Indeed."

"As is my cousin."

Voldemort's lips curled.

"Indeed. Your cousin is, however, a bit more useful."

"I'm sure," Sirius said darkly. "So was our old house-elf, for certain things. But I'm not here to talk about mental health concerns, or my beloved family," he added with as much irony as he could muster. "Cara."

Voldemort sat down in one of the chairs he had previously gestured to, but Sirius stayed standing, something which seemed to amuse the monster greatly.

"Indeed. How single-minded of you. Very well. As I am sure you can gather, the more you give me, the more I give you."

"Guaranteed?" Sirius pressed. "I know my cousin, and I know what she is capable of doing. I also know you are the only one who can even begin to control her."

"Yes, I think you are very right there," Voldemort said, his eyes glittering. "Let me just say that if you uphold your part of the bargain, Sirius, I shall certainly uphold mine."

Sirius took a deep breath, running through very carefully how he had to approach this. It was important not to tip Voldemort to exactly how much he knew. It was important that there was no hint of Dumbledore's hand in anything.

"Say I want to marry her," Sirius said softly.

"And you tell me love has no part in this?" Voldemort said with a cold burst of laughter. "No, no, I see what you are about to say. Yes, there is a greater guarantee for safety for the girl if she is pregnant with your child. Well, such an event would please her silly mother to tears, and yours as well, I imagine. The wedding of Sirius Black. The society event of the decade, I should think."

"The arrangement for such a thing?" Sirius prompted.

Voldemort pressed his thin, bone-like fingers together and grinned outright before he said, "I can see a great deal of potential in you, Sirius. You can see the bigger picture, something so rare in my followers. Even more pleasant, your goal is not to upstage anyone else, no silly ambitious drivel. You merely want what you want, and you will do what you have to in order to secure that. A man I can depend upon to be what he is, as your cousin suggested. I demand loyalty, Sirius Black, something I believe you understand well."

"I do," Sirius said.

"Well, then," Voldemort continued, "it is all very simple. To marry your beloved Cara Selwyn, you must simply join me, follow me, and do what I ask of you at all times."

Sirius looked at the satisfaction this gave the monster. As he expected, selling his soul. But selling his soul to save Catherine, to protect her. It was a dance he'd never wanted to do again, but one he'd grown very good at over the sixteen years he'd been heir to the Black family fortune. A small wave of nausea flooded him, but he forced it aside, thinking as firmly as possible of how delicate and lost Catherine had been when they first woke her after finding her, when all she knew was a name that wasn't really her name. That was what he had been told to do, to think only on things that were safe when he was with Voldemort or his cousin.

"I was always taught to read the contract before signing it," Sirius said softly. "Especially in blood."

Voldemort laughed again, another cold burst as he stood with surprising grace. He crossed to where Sirius stood, surprisingly tall. His eyes were even more unsettling from so close.

"The only contracts we make here, Sirius, are a seal of sorts. You have seen it before."

"More of a brand than a seal," Sirius whispered. "That's what we call a permanent mark on the skin. At least, I assume it is permanent."

"Oh, quite. I only give freedom in death. But you expected as much."

Sirius nodded, rolling up his left sleeve, holding out his left forearm.

"So willing," Voldemort said, amused. "Different from your brother, and yet both so willing." Voldemort grabbed Sirius's arm around the wrist, his touch colder still than his voice. "You recall what happened when Dumbledore found this mark on your dear friend Peter. I trust he won't see yours."

"You want me to spy on Dumbledore?" Sirius asked, raising a single eyebrow.

"What better use for our only Gryffindor? Oh, there will be other tasks, but your friends trust you implicitly. You can rejoin society in order to marry your beloved Cara, and pretend you are spying on that society in turn, without them seeing that mark, I trust?"

Sirius realized just what a delicate game he was being asked to play, by both sides. Lies stacked on lies stacked on lies. It would be so easy to lose the truth in it all. But there was no turning back now.

"You can count on me," Sirius said confidently, not breaking eye contact with Voldemort. "My Lord."

/-/

Cara, as she was now trying to think of herself, knew well enough to do as she was told, so when her sister-in-law, Bellatrix, told her to put on particular dress robes, she did that precisely. The robes were light, flowing, and a soft shade of blue. Cara put them on and went into the corridor, suppressing a shudder.

Lestrange Manor was nothing like Sirius's flat, or the house they'd been in before that. It had none of the warmth and lived-in quality she had so appreciated from the other two places. Most importantly, and perhaps most crucially, it didn't have Sirius. She missed him, would have given worlds to be with him, but she knew what being with him would mean now.

That was why she was genuinely surprised to make it halfway down the stairway to the entrance hall only to see him, standing in the entry, looking up at her with an expression like relief.

"No," she whispered, ignoring Bellatrix, who was leading her down the stairs, long nails holding Cara's arm like a claw. "No, no, no."

"Come on," Bellatrix said harshly, yanking at Cara's arm.

"Bella," the high, cold voice Cara knew was the Dark Lord said, almost like a warning, but Cara stood rooted to the spot, too afraid to get to the bottom of the steps. If she stood before him, it would be real. This, this far away from his face, could just be a nightmare she hadn't woken up from yet.

Alas, he took a deep breath and said, so soft she nearly missed it, "Cat. Come here, please."

A pain in her chest, a sharp and agonizing pain in her chest that was probably her heart breaking. The only thing she wanted once she knew the whole of her memories was for Sirius not to do what they wanted, for all the schemes to be in vain, and yet here he was, turning in his greatest convictions for something silly like her.

Still, Cara did as she was bid, allowing herself to be led down the stairs, walking up to him at the bottom, trying not to shiver as they were watched, as he took her hand and kissed it chastely, like she knew he would have to do to court her. She felt sick.

"You look well," he said softly, gently. "Have you been well treated?"

"Yes, thank you," she said, barely recognizing her own miniscule voice.

"They will continue to treat you well," he said, his voice now hard, turning his eyes to Bellatrix, whose smug expression melted slightly under his gaze. "Is that understood, cousin?"

Bellatrix said nothing, her black eyes glittering maliciously, but the Dark Lord said, "She will be cared for with the utmost consideration, Sirius. Isn't that right, Bella?"

"Yes, my Lord," Bellatrix said fawningly.

Cara's nausea only increased.

"Come, let us give the lovers a few moments alone to reunite," the Dark Lord said, ushering everyone else out of the room, and sparing one cold smirk back at Cara and Sirius before leaving them alone entirely.

But Cara didn't feel alone. She felt as though every portion of the walls were watching her, as she had ever since being taken to Lestrange Manor.

"Sirius, please," she said, feeling a swelling desperation. "Don't do this. I'll be fine."

"If I didn't do this," he said coldly, in a voice that gave her a horrible sensation in her spine, a tone that didn't belong to him, "they would kill you without hesitation." He took both her hands in his and squeezed them firmly. "Let me do this, Cat. Please."

He pressed his forehead to hers and she melted at the warmth of him beside her. She was shaking, she could feel the trembling come through her body, and Cara wanted to beg him to leave before she let herself get used to him again. But she knew he wouldn't leave her, as horrible as it was, the things he would have to do in order to stay.

"I'm going to marry you," he said firmly. "No, don't argue. You'll be safe then. I'm going to marry you as soon as possible. It's already been decided."

"And you?" she asked softly, the smallness of her voice seeming to be swallowed in the grand, dark entryway.

"I'll do my duty," he said, winking at her, smiling. "Never you mind that. You just do yours and everything will be fine."

Her duty. She knew what her duty would be as his wife, to represent him well at functions, to be gracious and graceful and bear him children. She couldn't manage to be regal like Bellatrix's sister, but she could do her best. Sirius wouldn't mind if that wasn't quite enough. Sirius was kind.

Cara, in spite of her better judgment, rolled forward on the balls of her feet and kissed him, sighing into the kiss as he responded instantly, almost eagerly. Her mind was a whirl of nights in his flat, his breath on her skin, his fingertips turning her body to flame with the lightest of touches, the way he filled her and caused her to feel adored and desired and special.

All too soon, he was pulling away, and as if on cue, Rabastan Lestrange – her brother, it seemed – was telling her that he would be escorting her upstairs, that Sirius had some business to attend to. Cara hesitated, but Sirius nodded her on, and she went back to the little bedroom they had set aside for her since she came home. She sat at the window, feeling the sun on her skin, something her childhood had been painfully devoid of. She chewed on her lip, her stomach churning with anxiety, and yet she felt a strange calm, almost a happiness. In spite of her fear for what was to come, at least she had Sirius.

/-/

Sirius took a deep breath as soon as he stepped out of the manor house, wondering where to begin. Of course, he wanted to begin with a cigarette, but first things had to come first, and depending on what his first step was, cigarettes weren't necessarily a prudent move. Before he could decide, a small voice from behind him said his name.

He turned to see his brother, like looking in a mirror that didn't look quite right. Regulus's features were more delicate, his eyes slightly further apart, his hair just a bit lighter, his build slighter, and that air of self-importance that Sirius knew the bulk of his attractiveness came from was replaced with a slightly submissive, compliant version.

"Reg," he said. If only he had known Regulus would be there. He could have delayed this meeting a little longer. It would be just his luck to have to deal with all of these things at once.

"Never thought I'd see you again," Regulus said, his voice still so soft, just barely above the wind through the topiaries. "Left your foolish friends?"

"Doing what I have to do," Sirius said sternly.

Regulus's eyes narrowed slightly and he said, "She must be some girl. You weren't willing to do your duty for your family, but you drop everything for some girl you barely know."

"She needs me."

"I needed you!" Regulus said, almost angrily. "We…we needed you." He deflated, frowning over his shoulder at the window before turning back to Sirius. "It took me months to get the mark, and you just waltz in here and get it within the hour. Just like you always do, get exactly what you want."

"Life's not that simple, Reg. The things I want come with high price tags, these days."

Sirius could hear the tiredness in his own voice, and he rubbed the back of his neck. Regulus hesitated as well, and Sirius decided it was a good idea to kill two birds with one stone.

"Reg, I know you're angry with me, and maybe you've got a right to be." He sighed, glancing up at a window, seeing a slight figure he knew had to be Cara. "But I think before you decide to hate me forever, we should probably have a proper chat, and not in front of someone else's house. And I…I think it's time I came back and at least tried to apologize."

The thought of saying anything remotely nice to his hag of a mother made him slightly nauseous, but it had to be done, and the very notion of it surprised Regulus. The two brothers stared at each other, Sirius trying to look resolute, Regulus trying to hide his surprise and confusion. Eventually, however, the younger of the brothers held out his hand and Sirius took it, shaking it firmly, feeling almost relieved.

"Let's not waste time, then," Regulus said softly. "Let's go shock our mother."

 **A/N: Yup. We're about to go to Grimmauld Place. I can't express how excited I am.**

 **Also, I'm going to give the review prompt, but then STICK AROUND because I've got some BIG and FANTASTIC news!**

 **Review Prompt: Who's your favorite Black (by blood, not necessarily still named Black) and how do you think that person will respond to Sirius's return to the fold?**

 **NEWS: So, on top of this story's usual reward structure, where 10 reviews in a week means an extra chapter that week, my dear friend** _ **MissRoseAlanaHorton**_ **and I have some exciting new goodies in store for you guys!**

 **Essentially, it's a loyalty system based on this story, my story** _ **Craving Comfort**_ **, and her story,** _ **The Dark Lord's Rose**_ **. If you've not read all of these stories, they're a real treat, I promise. The other two are much longer, so you've got some backlog to get caught up on. CC is a very long story that's a slow-and-steady Severus/OC throughout the two wars. TDLR is a dark romance Riddle/OC that starts while he's at school and BIG STUFF IS GOING DOWN and I can personally recommend it wholeheartedly.**

 **So here's how it works.**

 **Every time you review ANY of these three stories, you get a "stamp" on your stamp card. Like at frozen yoghurt places. Twenty stamps, you get a special prize: a spoiler for the story of your choice, and an entry into our quarterly prize drawings (always on the solstice). Quarterly drawings will be things like characters named for you, coupons for free access to any original works we've got, or a free one-shot written just for you by either of us! Full list will be given before our first drawing.**

 **More incentive to read all three stories? (As if you need more incentive, but here you go.) We will sometimes be running special weeks – first one THIS WEEK where if you review all three stories before the following Friday at 11:59 PM PST, you'll get FOUR stamps for your three reviews.**

 **So, just for how that's relevant to you right now: All of these stories are being updated this weekend. Review all three stories by Friday, April 15** **th** **, 2016 at 11:59 PM PST and you'll get FOUR stamps to your loyalty stampcard! If you've got catching up to do, those reviews count as well!**

 **Cheers, and if you've got any questions about this, feel free to drop me a PM!**

 **-C**


	11. Noble and Most Ancient House of Black

The screams of Walburga Black could have woken the dead.

Eventually, however, Regulus managed to calm the Black matriarch, and she reluctantly invited Sirius in for tea. Sirius did smell the beverage first to check for poison, and then made a point of complementing the sandwiches Kreacher brought them.

Walburga's eyes narrowed at the compliment, but she hummed her approval of it before saying that at least he still retained some of the manners she tried to drum into him before his betrayal.

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek and inhaled deeply, hiding his frustration behind a sip of tea.

"Where is Father, then?" he asked, setting down his cup. "It would, perhaps, be more efficient if we all spoke at once."

He was surprised when his mother's expression softened, and she looked down at her cup slightly before saying, "Your father is quite ill, and he is unable to leave his bed. In truth, he is dying."

Sirius blinked, puzzled. His father had been such a presence, mostly silent, mainly useless, but the idea of him not existing anymore just seemed so strange to Sirius. After losing the Potters, strangely, his blood relatives seemed a bit more important, especially now.

"He has perhaps a year," she continued. "You may see him after we have spoken, briefly, if you have satisfied me that it will be worth the potential strain on him."

He found himself nodding. It was a reasonable request, given his father's weak state. He wouldn't want the shock of his presence to finish the man off before he could be certain of the will. The thought made him feel disgusting, a very Slytherin sort of thought to have, but an important one, given everything.

"Very recently," Sirius said softly, "my priorities have changed. I became reacquainted with someone from my youth, and I have found it prudent and necessary for me to rejoin the society I was raised in."

Walburga raised her eyebrows suspiciously as Regulus stirred a bit of sugar into his tea.

"He's joined the cause, Mother," Regulus said softly. "We joined together, today, as full members. He is as deep into the process as I am."

This truly surprised Walburga, and she looked at Sirius as though she hadn't seen him properly since he walked into the house. In truth, she probably hadn't, so dim was the lighting in that godforsaken house.

"I see," she said softly. "Your priority in question is…?"

"Marriage," Sirius said firmly, setting down his cup. "I want to marry Cara Selwyn, and I am prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve that end."

As expected, his mother's face twisted with slight disappointment at the mention of Cara Selwyn, but considering what she might have expected him to do with his life, marrying a pureblood was certainly an improvement, and her expression softened almost instantly after the twist. She considered the announcement for a long moment, taking several sips of tea without looking away from her elder son, then setting down the cup as daintily as a woman with hands as large as hers could manage.

"I see," she repeated. "And when do you anticipate this marriage taking place?"

"As soon as the necessary details can be arranged," he said. Sirius then hesitated, glanced at Regulus, then back at his mother and continued, "I don't suppose it will be possible for Father to be present, as I had hoped."

"Doubtful," she said thoughtfully. "However, if the wedding is done soon…. Well, there are options to consider at the least. You will need to be fully reinstated, naturally. We were unable to remove you from the vault completely, as the old law dictates, however we had moved Regulus to first in line." She pursed her lips for a moment before saying, "I do expect that you will see that Regulus is provided for sufficiently, as the terms of the vault are rather stingy to the second-born son."

"Of course," Sirius said, perhaps the most honest thing he'd said since arriving at Grimmauld Place. "The last thing I want is to usurp Regulus. He will have everything he needs, anything he asks for. He can even have this house, if he wants it. I know how fond he is of it."

This seemed to be the perfect thing to say, because his mother looked very pleased, and Regulus looked amused, something he was hiding behind a sip of his own tea. Regulus hadn't forgotten, it seemed, how much Sirius hated that house. With the money from the vault it would be simple to obtain residence somewhere else. His flat wouldn't be suitable, at least until the war was over, but Sirius thought he could find something that didn't make him want to slit his own wrists.

"Why don't we draw up the paperwork now," Walburga said, after finishing her tea, "and when we go up to your father we can get him to sign it. I don't like to rush things, but given his condition, it doesn't seem very prudent to wait, does it?"

Sirius said nothing. It wasn't a question he was meant to answer, and Regulus's sad eyes seemed answer enough for both sons. His mother summoned some parchment, a quill, and ink, and began to draw up a revised will for Orion Black to sign while the young men ate sandwiches in silence.

/-/

The man on the bed was a pale imitation of the man Sirius knew to be his father. Too thin, too pale, too bald, too tired. This version of Orion Black barely recognized his own son, and his signature was weak and illegible. Of all the things Orion had been, he had been exceptionally sharp.

Walburga gave Sirius a moment sitting alone at his father's bedside, and he contemplated the finality of death. No coming back, no second chances. If he messed this up, everything he was putting into motion would be lost forever.

Feeling heavy, he kissed his father's forehead and said softly, "I'm sorry, Father. Maybe…maybe I should have come home sooner."

He wasn't sure the man had heard, but then Orion took his hand weakly and ever-so-gently squeezed. Although Sirius hadn't fully meant the words, in that brief moment, he wanted to mean them.

Sirius walked into the hall, where his mother was waiting, frowning at an empty portrait frame.

"I hadn't realized," Sirius said softly. "He's…"

"Yes," she said, with a small sniff. "He is quite changed since you left us." Sirius nearly shivered with the cold smile she gave him, and she said, "Well, Sirius. Welcome home."

"Thank you, Mother," he said, feeling the urge to take a long, long shower as soon as he left Grimmauld Place. "I have a few errands to run, but perhaps we will take tea again soon?"

Merlin forbid.

"Yes, of course," she said. "Tomorrow, I trust. We must begin plans for your wedding. I must discuss the matter with the girl's mother. I suppose you have not forgotten when we take tea."

"Not at all, Mother," he said, forcing a small smile. "I remember all the family habits quite well." He bowed his head slightly. "Good day."

"Good day, Sirius."

He walked down the stairs, pausing by the front door where Regulus was standing, waiting for him.

"Not quite what you left, is it?" Regulus said softly, glancing up the steps.

"In some ways," Sirius said, shrugging slightly. "In other ways it's exactly what I left."

"Well, then, you'd better hope she's worth it all, hadn't you?"

He smiled, rubbed the back of his neck, and said, "Oh, Reg, she absolutely is. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Very probably. And Sirius? Don't do anything reckless."

The only response Sirius could give was his signature smirk, although he knew he probably shouldn't. At least he stopped himself from winking, but he knew he had to leave Grimmauld Place and go straight to Lily and James's house, since it was unsafe now for Sirius to go to headquarters.

/-/

Albus listened patiently to Sirius's tales, learning everything he could about the mark on his arm, the state of the Black and Lestrange families, and everything that could be discerned about Lord Voldemort's physical state. Albus took several minutes to examine the mark, which he had not prioritized when Peter Pettigrew's treachery was discovered.

"Well," Albus said softly, "that is considerable progress, Sirius. Very good."

"Two things," Sirius said, looking slightly sheepish. "The first is that Cath – sorry, Cara and I are going to get married. I don't know when. Soon."

"I expected as much."

"The second is that he wants me to spy on the Order."

Albus smiled and said, "I expected that as well, Sirius. Don't worry. We will be very careful. But that was to be anticipated. Be careful what you say to your friends, and I will be sure to give you plenty to hand to Voldemort."

"What if I hurt someone?" Sirius said anxiously. "I don't want to get anyone hurt."

"They signed up knowing, Sirius," Albus told him. "We must do all we can, and keep in mind at all times the greater good."

Sirius's nostrils flared, but he nodded. If there was one thing, mercifully, that his upbringing had given him, it was a strong sense of duty. It was what both Albus and Voldemort were counting on, and Albus could only hope that the war could be brought to a close before Sirius's sense of duty shattered him from being pulled in two directions.

/-/

Tea was a less difficult affair the second day than the first, and Sirius mostly got to listen to his mother regale him in the various goings on in the elite houses since he left, and Sirius tried to pay attention, sorting the drivel from the things that could make a difference to playing his part. Mostly, he tried to be polite. There was no need to test his luck with his mother.

"This wedding," Walburga said after nearly half an hour of gossip that Regulus and Sirius politely sat through. "It has been suggested that it take place at Selwyn Manor."

"Really, Mother," Sirius sighed, "I couldn't care less about the details as long as I marry Cara as soon as practically possible. I leave all the matters that require attention in your very capable hands."

It would likely be a ghastly affair, but it would only be a single day of his life, and his mother was glowing with pride and pleasure at both the compliment from Sirius and the prospect of planning her son's wedding. No doubt, she and Madam Selwyn would be putting their heads together shortly on an event neither woman dreamed would take place until quite recently.

"Sirius?" Regulus said toward the end of tea. "If you have no plans for dinner, I have an invitation to see Cissy at Malfoy Manor and it extends to you as well."

Hoping it seemed that he was thinking over his diary, Sirius weighed the plusses and minuses. While he'd never had a particular problem with his cousin Narcissa, he had never been especially fond of her husband, Lucius Malfoy. What was more, there was no knowing who else would be invited. On the other hand, he knew that Lucius was in Voldemort's inner circle, and it was important to ingratiate himself as much as possible within that circle, and remind them what exactly they were dealing with.

"I believe I have room in my schedule," he said, smiling slightly. "How is Cissy?"

Walburga took another fifteen minutes to give Sirius the history of his cousin's life since Sirius had run away from home, although it wasn't much of a history to be sure. Regulus then told Sirius what time to arrive in Wiltshire for dinner, and Sirius took his leave of Grimmauld Place once again.

/-/

The peacock was eyeing Sirius with interest when Regulus arrived at the gate.

"I see you're eager to see Lucius," Regulus said, teasing slightly. "As always."

"Some people never grow less distasteful," Sirius said, quirking an eyebrow at the peacock as Regulus pressed his palm to the gate.

They did not have to wait long for Lucius to come out to greet them, bowing his head as little as he could to Sirius without being seen to cause offense, and Sirius nodded as briefly as possible before the two Black brothers followed their cousin-in-law into his manor.

"Narcissa," he said as he led them into the dining room, "your cousins."

She was precisely as Sirius remembered, pale and slight and looking as though something with an unpleasant smell was lingering in the room. She had something of a smile when she greeted both Regulus and Sirius, and she paused as Sirius kissed her hand and shocked him by pulling him into a hug. She whispered in his ear, "We need to speak before you go," and he gave her a small nod as she pulled away.

"It is good to see you again, Sirius," she said, smiling. "I always hoped you would return to us one day."

"You look well, Cissy," he said, smiling.

As far as relatives went, Narcissa hadn't been half bad. She had different priorities than most of the family, not ambition but selfishness. Her interests were purely about her own comfort and station, and that of her eventual children. Especially given his current circumstances, he could hardly judge her for that. No, she didn't rate with Uncle Alphard or Andromeda, but she and Regulus would always be among the more innocuous of the Black family tree.

Dinner was a quiet affair, mostly with people enough older than Sirius not to be of interest. Lucius told jokes about people Sirius did not know or care about, and Sirius was seated too far from Narcissa to have a private conversation with her. When the dinner was over and they went to the sitting room for drinks, however, Narcissa pulled Sirius aside.

"Regulus has told me everything," she said, smiling softly, glancing over at her husband. "The Dark Lord must value you greatly to give you the mark so quickly. Lucius is very envious."

"Just call me lucky," Sirius said dryly before sipping his firewhiskey.

"I've had almost no contact with Cara Selwyn since childhood," Narcissa said, lowering her voice even further as Evan Rosier went by. "But she must be a remarkable woman for you to come back. I know you don't really want to be here, Sirius."

He smiled in spite of himself thinking of his Cara, the way she felt in his arms, the way she changed when they were close to each other, the way she had always seemed so fragile, so precious.

"She's perfect," he said, looking his cousin in the eye and smirking at her astonishment. "No doubt my mother has told you of the upcoming wedding."

"Of course," Narcissa said, grinning. "I don't think Walburga has been so pleased since well before you left."

Sirius hummed and took another drink of his firewhiskey, glancing back over to where Regulus, Lucius, and Rosier were speaking in hushed voices.

"I think you should know," she said softly as he kept his gaze, moving around the room, "Lucius isn't at all pleased with your meteoric rise in the circles. He's not alone, either. Darling Bella thinks you'll usurp them at the Dark Lord's right hand. He's wanted you all along, you know. Merlin knows why," she added dryly. "We've always known you were more trouble than you were worth."

"Oh, I've done some growing up, Cissy," he said darkly. "I've seen a thing or two since sixteen, and I have to say the world isn't what I thought it would be."

"No, I don't imagine it is," she said sadly. "We all have dreams as children, you know. We all think we know things, understand things, but it's never what we envision. We all end up disappointed."

"All those who are sane, anyway," he said. Sirius took another long drink of his firewhiskey, and frowned at his empty glass.

Narcissa raised an eyebrow at him in amusement as he looked back at her.

"A refill?" she asked, gesturing to the bottle, which was over by Lucius. "Dare you brave my husband?"

"Not tonight, cousin," he said, smirking as Lucius caught his eye across the room, only to look away too quickly. "He really is skittish, isn't he?"

Narcissa was frowning at him when he looked back at her, and she said softly, "Slytherin has loyalty of a sort, Sirius. We watch out for our own, but we are keenly aware of outsiders. If he could do so without losing position, Lucius would not hesitate to stab you in the back. Never forget that."

"And you, cousin?" he said, smiling at her thinly veiled discomfort. "Would you stab me in the back?"

"He may be my husband," she said, glancing briefly to the group by the bottle getting refills, "but you are blood. Do not test to see how far that bond will carry you, but know that as far as I am concerned, you are both my own."

He nodded, kissing her hand once more and winking before nodding to Regulus and seeing himself out. As he walked into the garden, toward the front gate, Sirius felt the cold night air almost suffocating him as he walked away from his latest in what was proving to be an endless stream of obligations.

The peacock walked up to him, curious, blinking at him in the darkness as he paused to pet the bloody albino bird.

"This is what I'm reduced to," he said lightly, stroking the beak of the thing. "Give your master a hearty peck on the face from me, will you? Then it'll really be like old times."

The bird seemed to understand him, and it nudged him gently toward the gate, toward his freedom.

At least for the night. Sirius had a horrible feeling that freedom would only be relative for him for a very long time.

 **A/N: EXTRA UPDATE! You guys earned an extra update this week! This chapter is dedicated to reader** _ **gr8rockstarrox**_ **, whose reviews tipped us over the edge. Normal service resumes Saturday, unless you make it to 20 reviews this week! ;)**

 **Review Prompt: So we've been to Grimmauld Place! What do y'all think about Orion? He's my favorite of the Blacks, although Narcissa is a close second. Does the reinstatement of Sirius match up to your expectations?**

 **-C**


	12. New World

Unlike with Lily and James, Sirius's own wedding went by in a bit of a blur. It was planned by their mothers. It was held on the grounds of Selwyn Manor with too many gaudy flowers and faces of people Sirius didn't like or care about. They spent the wedding night in Selwyn Manor as well, as the last thing he wanted was to subject her to Grimmauld Place, and it would be too suspicious to bring her to his flat.

"Cat," he whispered, when she hadn't come out of the bathroom for some time, when she'd only gone in to take down her hair after the reception. "Cat, is everything alright?"

She didn't answer, and Sirius grew worried. He opened the door to see her staring at herself in the mirror, her jaw trembling.

"Cat," he said softly.

Cara looked at him in the mirror, tried to twitch her lips into a smile, but she was afraid. Sirius stepped up behind her, gently lifting the hair from her shoulders and depositing it all to the left side, giving him access to her neck. He pressed a kiss to her skin.

"It's just me, love," he whispered. "It's still me. I promise."

She relaxed slightly, melting more and more into his arms with each kiss, and he smiled as he traced the kisses up her neck, to the back of her jaw, tickling her ear with his stubble.

Sirius carefully unzipped the back of her dress, teasing her arms up with light touches so that it fell to the floor, pooling at her feet. He salivated at the sight of her body covered only in a few thin, lacy scraps of fabric. The back of his neck tingled as his mind raced with the memory of the warmth of her touch, the smoothness of every inch of her skin, the sounds she made when he moved inside of her.

"Shall we?" he whispered.

"It feels strange," she said softly, "in this house. I'm not supposed to be happy here."

"The world is a different place now," he said, smiling against her skin. "The only thing you need to worry about is being as happy as possible."

Slowly, Cara began to smile, and she let him lead her into the bedroom. He grinned as she climbed onto the bed, smiling shyly up at him. Sirius kicked off his shoes, and he let her unbutton his dress robes, shrugging them off and then wriggling out of his trousers before following her onto the bed. He kissed her hungrily, so eager to experience what he'd missed for so long.

When her fingers unbuttoned his shirt, he didn't argue, so busy he was tracing his fingers along the curves of her body. But when she tried to push the shirt off his shoulders, he pulled away slightly, feeling a stab of anxiety in his chest.

"No," he said firmly. "No, Cat, please, let's just leave it on."

"Why?" she asked, her face scrunched slightly in a picture of puzzlement.

Sirius didn't answer her. He looked down at her collarbone and swallowed, trying to find a way to make her understand. He didn't want her seeing it. He didn't want it touching her skin. It was bad enough that it was controlling him; he didn't want it to ruin her as well.

Her fingers traced through his hair and he rested his face on her breast.

"It won't ever go away, you know," she said softly.

"I know."

They lay in silence for a long while, Cara caressing his hair, Sirius clutching onto her torso.

"I think I love you," he finally said.

He could almost hear a smile in her voice as she said back, "I love you too, Sirius."

/-/

"I'm worried about Sirius," Lily said as James set a cup of tea in front of her. "The less we see him the worse he looks every time he does come round."

James said nothing, but she knew he was worried, too. They weren't allowed to know what Sirius was learning from his time with the Death Eaters, and their questions about Catherine were very limited as well. They knew that she was now legally known as Cara Black, and that the papers were very interested indeed in Sirius's return to pureblood society. Lily could hardly pick up the paper without seeing some article about an event Sirius had attended, some charity function he'd given generously to, some bill he had commented on when cornered by reports while doing his shopping.

"I can see why he left," she had told James after a couple of weeks of the madness. "It's like every time he sneezes, it's some kind of event."

Sirius didn't want to talk about it, and the one thing she'd been able to get out of him was that he was living in Selwyn Manor until he found a suitable bit of real estate that wasn't his childhood home.

"So ask him about it," James said, shrugging.

Of course, she couldn't ask him outright about anything to do with the Death Eaters, because technically she and James and Remus weren't supposed to know the truth of his return to society. But she could always ask him if anything was wrong, generally.

Sirius did visit, had a cup of tea, got vague, non-classified updates on several Order members. It was weird, not being able to confide in him, but Dumbledore would tell him what he was supposed to know, and that information flow had to be very closely controlled, for everyone's safety.

"Sirius," she said, as soon as James got up to put the washing in the dryer. She was teaching him to do laundry the Muggle way, since it was safer than his attempts at household charms. "Sirius, you look so pale. Is everything okay? Is it Cate? Is she alright?"

"Cat's fine," he said, shrugging slightly, giving her a sad smile. "No, I…. Well, it's kind of stupid, really, since I probably wouldn't have ever known except…." He rubbed the back of his neck. "My father is dying, you know. Nothing to be done, he's just very weak. Dragon pox, like the Potters. Stupid, right? I had it as a child, I was fine. But the elderly, I guess they just can't…"

He shivered, looked out the window.

"When I was a child," he said softly, "my father was the unspoken law in our house. He hardly said a word, but every word he said was firm, forceful, and final. And now it's like he looks at me and he isn't even sure he's seeing me, like I'm some figment of his ailing imagination. You know, you leave at sixteen and you're angry, and you don't think about everything you're leaving behind, and how they might not really…might not be the same if you go back."

Lily nodded. She wished she understood how he felt, wished she could say she knew how he felt, but she had been a happy child. She really didn't know what to do to make him feel better. And the worst part was, as horrible as it clearly was for Sirius to watch his father die without being able to really reconnect with him, Lily knew that this was just the tip of the iceberg.

/-/

Doing as he had been practicing, Sirius took deep breaths and focused on thoughts of Cara. If Voldemort thought he was obsessed with his young wife, there was less likelihood of him suspecting Sirius of duplicity. He walked into the study of his father-in-law, his eyes fixed on the silhouette of Voldemort. Sirius did not allow himself to feel important, because that was the beginning of a downfall, but it didn't escape his notice that Voldemort had come to him, where otherwise Voldemort called his followers to wherever he was.

"Sirius," Voldemort said, without bothering to look up at him, admiring instead, the snake heads on the mantle. "How is your bride?"

Sirius's neck stiffened in spite of himself, and he thought of how he'd finally let her take off his shirt the night before. He was still anxious about touching her with his left forearm, but he had forgotten how wonderful it was to feel her kissing his chest and shoulders.

"She is well," Sirius said softly.

"I am upholding my end of our bargain, then," he said, his high voice close in the small room. "And I must now call upon you to begin upholding your end in earnest."

"Yes, my Lord," Sirius said.

It was his voice. It sounded like his voice. But he didn't mean the words, and he was fairly certain Voldemort knew that as much as he did. But Voldemort didn't want Sirius to be another mindless follower, not even necessarily a devoted one.

Just faithful. That was his only expectation, and Sirius could fulfill that well enough.

"You will come to Malfoy Manor tonight. You will be expected there. Your cousin will let you in, and you will go immediately to the cellar."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Oh, and Sirius, if you speak of what occurs at that place tonight to anyone, I will kill your wife myself."

Sirius paused, knowing with absolute certainty that something absolutely terrible was about to happen. He said nothing, standing perfectly still in the study as Voldemort swept out of it without a glance at him. Sirius took a deep, shuddering breath.

/-/

There was very little light in the cellar, and Sirius could really only make out a handful of silhouettes, including the very distinct one of Voldemort and the crouched one of someone sprawled in the corner. A prisoner, he presumed.

"Introducing you to an old friend, Sirius," Voldemort said, smiling. "Caradoc Dearborn. I believe you know each other well."

"You bastard," Caradoc spat at Sirius, who felt like the world was spinning. "You would betray us all for a girl?"

"She's not just any girl, mate," Sirius said darkly.

He didn't know if Caradoc knew, but he guessed not. If he did, he was a very good actor.

"Mr. Dearborn has been snooping in some very private collections, some very private properties." Sirius nodded. He'd seen things he shouldn't, on Dumbledore's orders. That was what he'd been doing for all this time. "I have already determined what he has seen," Voldemort continued, "but we need to give him his punishment now."

The back of Sirius's neck was tingling again. This was Bellatrix's joy, her area of expertise. Sirius wasn't a torturer; he was a solider. He didn't have the imagination for that kind of thing.

"I daresay you are familiar with a method or two," that cold voice said in the darkness. "Go right ahead."

Sirius took a few steps forward, close enough to see the anger in Caradoc's eyes, but he knew what he had to do. There was no way to save Caradoc now, and if Sirius didn't do as he was told, he would be next, and then there was nothing that could be done for Cara, or anyone else. He only wished that Caradoc could forgive him.

He drew his wand, pointed it at his friend, and took a deep breath. It was all he could do not to close his eyes.

" _Crucio_."

Sirius had never used the spell, but he'd seen it plenty of times. He'd seen that same writhing, heard the screams. He knew very well how it was supposed to burn, like it was splitting the person into pieces. Caradoc's screams were deafening, and they were Sirius's fault, but he kept the spell sustained. He couldn't afford to be squeamish, although he did feel his jaw twitch. Caradoc writhed so violently that his head cracked on the wall, but he wasn't dead. He was still twitching, still screaming.

Voldemort was at his shoulder, and he could hear that nightmarish voice in his ear.

"If you let him rest, let him recover, you can torture him longer."

At that, Sirius stopped, letting Caradoc catch his breath. He knew what Voldemort was doing. There was something seductive about power, and Sirius had seen it destroy better men than him. It would be easy to make a game of it, telling himself he was just doing what he had to do, and soon enough he would be his cousin. He was already given a high place in the Death Eaters' hierarchy. If he allowed himself to be seduced by the power he was given, no doubt he would be given anything he could want.

The thought made him sick.

" _Avada Kedavra_."

A blinding green light, and Caradoc's body was limp, devoid of life, devoid of breath. An empty shell. And Sirius was responsible.

"I didn't think you had it in you," Bellatrix's amused voice said in the shadows, but Sirius ignored her. He turned to Voldemort, standing so close to him. Bellatrix might have thought they'd won something, that they'd broken something in Sirius, but Voldemort knew.

"You can make me torture," Sirius said softly. "And you can make me kill. And I will do it. But you cannot make me enjoy it. Caradoc was a good man and a great wizard. But as far as I was concerned, he was already a dead man. There's no point dragging it out. I see nothing to be gained in playing with my food."

Voldemort said nothing, but Sirius thought he was smiling. There was a very tense moment and then a single burst of frozen laughter from Voldemort.

"You are full of surprises, Sirius," he said pleasantly, as though Sirius had merely said that he didn't like the weather. "As long as you do your duty and remember your promises. Go home to your wife, Sirius. And remember, you know nothing of what has just occurred."

Sirius nodded, bowing his head slightly as was expected, and walking out of the cellar as evenly as he could when all he wanted to do was break down. Breaking down, however, was a luxury he might never have again.

/-/

Albus sat down with the Order and waited for someone to bring up what they were all thinking about.

"Two weeks," Dorcas finally said. "I was supposed to hear from Caradoc two weeks ago."

Sirius was looking at the table, but there was nothing strange about that. He spent much of the meetings not really listening anymore. It was safer that way.

"He was supposed to check in with me this week," James said, running his fingers through his hair absently. "But he never did."

Albus nodded and said, "I have failed to hear from him as well. Sirius?"

Sirius's head jerked up, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Sorry," he said. "I didn't…. I was thinking about something else."

"Have you seen or heard from Caradoc lately?" Albus asked pointedly.

Sirius looked him in the eye levelly, tilted his head like he was considering it, but Albus knew well enough that he wasn't bothering to think about it.

"No, I haven't. Not in a few weeks, I don't think."

The rest of the meeting went forward and Sirius did what he was supposed to do, chiming in on things he would usually chime in on, keeping himself out of big items, occasionally mentioning some habit of someone like Lucius Malfoy or one of his cousins. At the end of the meeting, Albus waited for the room to empty for his biweekly meeting alone with Sirius, who was rubbing the heel of his hand on his robes.

It was strange to see the transformation in Sirius, one which had happened almost instantaneously when Sirius was marked by Lord Voldemort. He went from wearing Muggle clothes almost exclusively to wearing nothing but the finest robes. He went from living in his London flat to staying at Selwyn Manor.

"Now I need to know," Albus said, watching a nervous Sirius. "First of all, your brother."

"Has the mark," Sirius said softly.

"And he's the youngest?"

"Second youngest," Sirius said, shrugging. "I'm not at liberty to say, Dumbledore. You know that."

"And you have been…"

"Mostly feeding what I've been fed," he said, shrugging. "He's working on involving me more. It's mostly what we've expected. I don't know any secrets. Not yet."

"Understandable," Albus said, nodding. Sirius looked back down at the table, back to rubbing his hands on his robes. "Sirius, have you seen Caradoc? Do you know anything about his fate?"

Sirius rubbed the back of his neck, scratched the side of his face, and he finally looked up at Albus and said, "I really don't know."

"So he's just vanished?" Albus said, his eyes narrowing.

"Looks that way," Sirius said, scratching the side of his face again. "It's happened before."

Albus nodded, understanding. For a brief moment, he had thought that Sirius was keeping things from him, but he had seen fear in the young man's eyes, and the hollowness that only comes from one act.

Sirius had killed Caradoc. Whether or not he was ready yet to deal with that action was something Albus could not help him with. It was the sort of thing a man could get no help with. But he would not continue to press him and cause further issues.

"Very well," he said. "Keep me apprised, Sirius. And let me know if there is anything you need."

"Of course, sir," he said, shrugging. "I…I will."

/-/

Cara tried to smile as the family elf laid out tea for herself and Sirius's cousin, Narcissa Malfoy. The blonde was giving Cara a thoughtful look, before finally picking up her tea.

"It is a pleasure to finally get this chance," Narcissa said, smirking slightly over her cup. She was so like Sirius when she did that. "Such a strange thing, to meet the woman who finally made dear Sirius fall in love."

With a cough, Cara set down her cup, stunned.

"I…I really don't think—"

"My dear Cara," Narcissa said, setting down her own cup, "I have known Sirius all his life. I think there are many people in my family who believe they understand Sirius, and only a handful of us really do. He did not return to us because he was bored, or because he missed anything we had to offer him. He returned to us because he fell in love, and nothing less could have brought him anywhere near us. He still very much despises this world, and he puts on the face has to for what he wants. And what he wants, my dear, is you."

While the words were flattering, and while Cara knew enough to know that Narcissa wasn't lying to her, she couldn't help but feel like she was being considered like a horse being priced for sale to the highest bidder. What was it Sirius had said about Slytherins?

Ambition.

Narcissa understood Sirius, and Narcissa understood better than almost anyone else in their world what game Sirius was playing. The question was, was she friend or foe, and what was Cara supposed to do about it either way?

 **A/N: This double-bonus chapter is dedicated to my dear friend** _ **Missing Triforce**_ **, whose review brought us to the 20 review mark for the week.**

 **Review Prompt: Who is it going to be the hardest for Sirius to lie to? Since he's going to have to tell an awful lot of lies.**

 **-C**


	13. Grasping at Straws

The gates were activated at three in the morning, and Sirius was called out of bed to deal with them.

"It's your brother," his mother-in-law said anxiously, pulling slightly at her braid. "He appears to be in quite a state."

Sirius pulled on his dressing gown and kissed Cara's forehead before hurrying downstairs to the entryway, where Regulus had already been let in. He was bleeding, trembling, and possibly even crying, but Sirius preferred not to make judgments on that kind of thing.

"Fuck's sake, Reg," Sirius hissed. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up."

He led Regulus to the nearest bathroom and drew a bath for his brother, pulling towels out of the cupboard and selecting potions based on the labels for burns, cuts, and bruises.

"Get in the bath and tell me what happened," Sirius said, laying out the potions and pastes by order of use. If only Lily were around to tell him what to do. She was always better at this sort of thing.

Regulus let Sirius strip him down, lower him into the tub.

"Sirius, I don't want to do this anymore," he said through gritted teeth as the water hit his wounds.

"Do what?"

"I want out."

Sirius could have sworn the room went cold at those words.

Regulus was young, but he wasn't a child. He wasn't stupid, and he knew what he'd signed up for. There was no out, there was only in and death.

"Reg…"

"Don't," Regulus said, lowering his voice so that no one out of the room could hear them, although Sirius charmed the doorframe to block the sound, just in case. "Sirius, don't. I'm not a fool. I know you're serving two masters, and right now I don't care which one you're really hanging your hat with. I'm your brother, and there's something Albus Dumbledore needs to know, if he doesn't already."

Sirius hesitated. Regulus was a lot of things, but false was not one of them. It was one of the many reasons Sirius made a better eldest son – he could play a part, where Regulus could only be what he was. If there was something going on and Regulus wanted to turn on the Death Eaters, he really meant it, and if there was something he wanted to get to Dumbledore, he really wanted Sirius to pass on the message.

"Reg, I can't pass things. I'm…I'm watched too closely."

"Then we need to find a way to funnel information," Regulus said pointedly, but Sirius shook his head, not understanding his brother. "Look, I've got someone who feeds me information, someone else who knows enough to know he wants out. Between the three of us, we can find out everything we need to bring down the Dark Lord, if we get it to the right people."

"That's a big if, Reg."

"Your wife."

"No!" Sirius said anxiously. "No, we can't bring her into this!"

"Hear me out," Regulus said, wincing as he sat up straighter in the bath. "We pass things through Cara to Narcissa. No, just listen. Lucius doesn't tell her anything, not because he doesn't trust her, but because she still sneaks a letter out to Andromeda every other week. You know Dorcas Meadows?"

Sirius hesitated again, but that was all Regulus needed to grin tightly and say, "Yeah, I thought so. Narcissa knows everything, and even better, she knows when to feign stupid. So she gets information to Andy through Dorcas, and Andy can get information to Dumbledore easily. Am I right?"

Sirius sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Secrets were a dangerous business, and this was why. The more hands a message passed through, the more likely the wrong information got to the other end. The only real way to keep a secret was to tell no one. He could pass things to Dumbledore so much more efficiently, but he had to know, he had to decide just how far he was going to trust his brother.

"Before I agree to anything, you tell me something," Sirius said firmly. "You tell me who this fellow malcontent is of yours, Reg, because I swear to Merlin if it's someone who can't hold their own, everything's off, here and now, and you keep your nose down and do as I tell you, understood?"

Regulus hesitated, and Sirius was nervous instantly. There were so many people it could be, and there was a possibility it was Barty Crouch, Jr., who was the only Death Eater younger than Regulus.

"Before we agree to anything, then, you need to meet with him," Regulus finally said. "I'll arrange something at the house. No, listen, Sirius. It'll be easier to keep things quiet on our own land. My contact, you and Cara. Narcissa. We can't bring Andy. Maybe we could bring Dorcas."

"You let me worry about Andy and Dorcas," Sirius said firmly. "Just get everybody else there, and if we move forward, then I'll see where we stand. Understood?"

Regulus looked nervous, and Sirius didn't draw any confidence in the plan from this, but he nodded and said, "Alright, Sirius. Pass me the orange paste by your left toe, will you? This gash on my shoulder seems to be done leaking."

Sirius forced a grin and handed his brother the paste jar in question. He turned to give his brother some privacy, rubbing his temples and wondering how in the name of Merlin he'd gotten himself into this mess.

/-/

Cara twisted the ribbon she'd meant to put in her hair as she sat in the second-floor sitting room of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, the first time she had ever been to the property. Her mother-in-law, Walburga Black, had been eager to show her around, and introduce her to her father-in-law, who was bedridden and exceptionally frail. He'd kissed her hand with tenderness, all the same.

Now she was staring at her teacup, twisting the ribbon in her hands, waiting for someone to say something as she sat at a table with Sirius, Regulus, Narcissa Malfoy, and a man named Severus Snape.

The greeting between Severus and Sirius had been cold, almost childish, and she had the feeling that if not for the need to maintain a veneer of civility in the company they were in, the two men would have come to blows.

"Sirius," Regulus said softly, "at least let each of us explain why we want to do this."

"By all means," Sirius said bitterly. "Explain away."

Narcissa lifted her head haughtily and said, "I'll exercise my right to speak first. Quite frankly, I couldn't care less who wins this war. The fact of the matter is, should the Dark Lord win, my blood will protect me and I have plausible deniability. My husband knows nothing, and I can claim ignorance of your allegiances. But I have a very strong instinct for these sorts of things, and the fact is, I have a very strong feeling based on what Regulus has told me and based on your behavior, Sirius, that the Dark Lord will fall. I would rather not have to raise my children in a world with a war, and I am playing my cards to end it swiftly, one way or another."

Sirius's lips twitched in amusement, and he nodded. Cara shivered slightly at the coolness of Narcissa's explanations, but it did suit the woman to guard her own interests. There was just something about the way she looked at even those around the table slightly down her nose that said she was perfectly willing to secure her comfort however she needed.

The others turned to look at Severus, who seemed to have a short stick of some sort. Cara did think that she didn't recognize his surname, so perhaps there was a blood status matter at play.

Severus quirked one smooth eyebrow, and he spoke for the first time since being introduced to Cara, and she was struck by his smooth baritone voice, with a richness that seemed beyond his years. She was sure he was somewhere around their age.

"Quite simply, Black, someone I care about is about to be at great risk with plans I have been privy to. You will understand if I play my cards close to the vest while you vet, as you are doing." Sirius narrowed his eyes, but he nodded slowly. Sirius seemed to know who Severus was talking about without the man saying a name, and Cara twisted the ribbon more tightly, pulling it slightly.

"And I have been doing some reading," Regulus said softly, "in the family library."

"Pardon?" Sirius asked, puzzled.

"I've been reading on the properties of the soul," Regulus said, glancing at the door, although they had charmed it so they could not be heard or disturbed. "And I have found not only my reasons to leave, but also the information that we need to destroy him. Because if we don't know what we're dealing with, no one can beat him. He's not mortal as we know it, Sirius. There are things…. It's very Dark magic, beyond anything we'd ever imagined as children."

Cara shivered, but she tried to hide it. Sirius took a deep breath and stirred a bit of milk into his tea slowly, carefully.

"I'll start putting cards on the table, then," Sirius said. "All of us have to show all our cards, and give each other all the benefits of our knowledge and skills, and we have to understand that by doing this, we are putting our lives at extreme risk, more so than any of us were already, and if anyone wants to leave now, they can do so with no questions or commitment."

He glanced at her, and Cara untwisted the ribbon and began to twist it all over again. He wanted her to leave, wanted her to say that she wouldn't be a part of it, but she couldn't just sit in Selwyn Manor and live a society life, not after everything that had been done to her. She knew more than he thought, knew she was still a pawn between the two sides whether he wanted that or not, and she wanted to take some of her fate into her own hands, to stand up for something.

Everyone looked back at him, no one hesitating, no one showing any signs that they wanted to leave. Sirius frowned at Severus for a long moment before saying, "Well, I suppose we've all sold our souls in one respect or another. As you might know or may have guessed, I'm already spying for Dumbledore. We took advantage of Bella's use of Cara to bring me back into the fold, and I'm passing information in both directions. Voldemort considers me his spy on Dumbledore, and Dumbledore considers me his spy on Voldemort, and to be perfectly honest, most days I can't remember which side I need to play which way when I first wake up in the morning, but I only have this mark on my arm because it was the only way to save Cara and get this war over with."

Narcissa smirked at him triumphantly, clearly having suspected something to this effect, and Regulus nodded slowly. Severus pursed his lips, but he nodded.

"Lily is going to be in danger very soon," Severus said softly. "She and Potter had turned down two invitations already to join the Dark Lord, and if they should turn down a third time, he may consider them incapable of being turned into an asset. They will either be compelled to join or they will be killed."

Cara swallowed and nearly tore the ribbon in her hands. The idea of losing Lily and James, especially after losing Peter, was horrific to her.

Sirius nodded and said, "I thought as much. I hadn't realized there was a second attempt, but they've been instructed not to share everything with me, for obvious reasons."

"Lucius," Narcissa said softly, "has been asked to hold on to something for the Dark Lord, as has Bella. Based on what Regulus has confided in me, we have ways to access those things which could make our task much simpler than if we were to work from the starting point. They must be some of them, but the question is how many there are."

"What?" Cara asked. "Some of what?"

Regulus leaned forward and said, "What do any of you know about the term, Horcrux?"

Based on Sirius's confusion and Severus choking slightly on his tea, the Slytherins in the room were at an advantage. Regulus's eyes darkened and he began to explain what he had learned about the nature of the soul, and how Dark Magic could be used to manipulate this nature for longevity.

/-/

The room seemed to spin around Sirius as he took in this information. Splitting the soul. He did feel that his killing of Caradoc had changed something fundamental in him, but to actively kill to achieve a kind of twisted immortality…. It was little wonder Voldemort barely resembled a man anymore.

"So if there's only the two you think are Horcruxes," Sirius said slowly, "that means there's two things we could get our hands on and destroy. But if there's more?"

"That is a problem," Regulus said slowly. "Which is why we need Dumbledore. I mean, the man knows something about everything, he's bound to have a better idea how many we're looking for, and where to start."

Sirius did agree with that. He glanced at Cara, who was still twisting her hair ribbon under the table. That morning, all he wanted was to find a way to keep Cara as safe as possible while ending the war, and now he was joining ranks with Snivellus of all people. His life seemed to be spiraling out of control.

"The question is how to contact him," Sirius said, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want us drawing attention to Dorcas, Reg. She's risking enough as it is. But we could use Andy, if she's willing. But who is her contact? It can't be me or Cara. We're too obvious."

"That's where I come in," Narcissa said, smirking. "They all know I still speak to my sister, and as long as I do it at night and mind my disguises, they consider it harmless. I can pass on any message you'd like to her, and she's free to associate with anyone at all."

Sirius stood up, pacing the study, not looking at them. If the funneled information to Narcissa, through Cara where necessary, Dorcas could be used in emergencies (although he didn't want to bring that up now, just in case) and Andromeda could take all messages from Narcissa and take them…. Where? Where could she take them? Her daughter was too young to be at Hogwarts. There was no need for her to be at the castle. She wasn't friends with any of Sirius's friends. The only Order member she'd been close to was Caradoc, and now he was gone.

"I'll have a word with Albus," Sirius said, suddenly recalling Nymphadora's special gift. That was the sort of thing a frustrated mother might turn to a wise man about. "I think we can do that. The question now is how we hide in plain sight. Three of us, anyway, will be required at meetings, and I know Sn-Snape and I have been alone with him more than a few times."

Snivellus cleared his throat and said, "Black, I believe, given current circumstances, that you are familiar with a certain branch of magic that covers matters of the mind and the memory." Sirius grunted that he was, in fact, familiar. "I happen to have been studying it extensively. As you said, we must all bring our particular talents to the table. Hiding in plain sight happens to be one of mine."

The last thing he wanted was to give Snape an excuse to go messing with his head, but Sirius was already dancing on a fine line with what he did and didn't know, and his methods for keeping himself from being suspect. Narcissa said softly that Bellatrix had learned these methods as well, that the Dark Lord had been teaching her how to invade the minds of others, and that was that. Sirius would learn, Regulus would learn, Narcissa was already learning, and Cara would learn too.

"You and I will have to make nice then, Snape, and publically," Sirius said bitterly. "We can't have your old schoolmates suspicious of us spending time together." He let his lips curl into a smirk as he turned around to look at the bunch of them at the tea table. "And I think I have just the right idea."

/-/

Albus listened to Sirius's story, feeling a weight on his shoulders. It was beyond what he could have expected, but he knew that this group had only scratched the surface.

"I will look into the matter," he said softly, "and I will pay Andromeda Tonks a visit. I wish you would have come to me sooner, but I understand your decision, Sirius. I must say, you surprise me, working with Severus Snape." He smiled at Sirius's obvious discomfort. "Don't tell me you trust the man."

"I don't," Sirius said quickly, "but I haven't got much of a choice, have I? Reg trusts him, Narcissa trusts him, and he was even willing to work with me. I'm going to keep an eye on him, but he must be pretty desperate to agree to work with me in the first place, right?"

Albus could see anxiety behind the haughty expression, and he knew that Sirius was far from certain he was doing the right thing, on any count. It was bound to become confusing, the web of lies and misconceptions.

"Indeed," Albus said. "You know, Sirius, when someone has a difficult childhood, it is not unusual for them to cling very closely to their first real positive friend. For you, I believe, that was James, and you two are as brothers, closer than even your real brother. Severus's first friend, his first kind soul, was Lily Potter. Do not underestimate what he would do to protect her, just as I believe you would do anything to protect James."

Sirius frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

As painful as it would likely be, Albus thought this would be good for both men, forcing them to grow up, to set aside the prejudices of their youth and really see each other for the first time. In so many ways, the two men were alike. He didn't expect them to become friends, but perhaps, with time, they could learn to respect each other.

"And Cara," Albus said. "What is her role in this?"

"She and Narcissa can meet discretely where Severus and Regulus and I can't manage, and they can receive any of us without suspicion. Well, Narcissa can receive any of us, and Cara can meet with either me or Reg. And Cara can have tea with Narcissa whenever either of them finds it necessary, and they are considered harmless then."

Albus hummed. He wasn't so certain, but he knew that Cara's fear and Narcissa's savvy would go a long way to keeping the two women safe.

"And your cousin's husband?"

"Lucius?" Sirius said with a frown. "You know as well as I do, Albus, that he'll play both sides of the fence and only hop one way or the other based on how the shoe drops. If we pull this off, he'll be right with her, claiming he was helping us all along. And if we fail, he'll say she was doing her duty to feed us false information. Scandal on his wife's name reflects poorly on him."

Albus hummed again, smiling.

"Have Narcissa pass what she knows about these two objects as quickly as possible. That will give me a better idea of what we are looking for. From there I can begin to dig into his past deeper than I already have, and find out just how many pieces we are looking for."

"You think there is more than the two?"

Oh, the weight of his years. Sometimes it was terrifying, knowing how easily he could have found himself the not-quite-man Tom Riddle had become. But Tom never had anything to lose.

"Sirius, you have seen him. It has been a very, very long time since I would have called him a man. I believe we could be dealing with many more than two pieces."

The young man said nothing, but his eyes showed the fear he would never admit to.

"I'll have Narcissa meet with Andromeda as soon as possible, sir."

Sirius showed himself out, and Albus thought back through the years, to a charming, talented boy who had the whole world thinking the world lay at his feet. So many years, no one knew what had become of him. There were places to start. Borgin and Burkes, where Tom had worked after school. Some of his old teachers, particularly Horace. And perhaps a visit to the old orphanage where Albus had first met Tom.

There was a great deal of history to be dug up, and there was not a moment to lose.

 **A/N: Well, there you go! Severus Snape has come onto the scene, and he and Sirius are…working together? Hmmm. :D And we're moving forward, forming a coalition of spies. I love coalitions.**

 **Also, on reviews. You guys blew my expectations out of the water this past week and reviewed this story 24 times! That's TWO extra chapters y'all got last week! Want to see what Sirius's plan to publically make nice (kind of) with Snape is? REVIEW! You'll see Andromeda sooner, too, this way.**

 **Review Prompt: Was this anything at all like what you were expecting when you started reading this story, and what do you expect the biggest change is going to be, going forward, with what we know now?**

 **-C**


	14. In Motion

Albus sat down, watching as the seven-year Nymphadora play on the floor with dolls. Of course, instead of dressing them and brushing their hair like so many little girls, she was practicing changing her features to match theirs, even mixing and matching from different dolls.

"Narcissa paid a quiet visit the other night," Andromeda said thoughtfully. "She said there's a very interesting cup in the possession of dear Bella, and a very interesting, very old, very empty diary in the possession of her husband."

"A diary," Albus said thoughtfully. "Interesting indeed. I wonder how old."

"She wasn't sure," she said, "but I have a feeling from the indicators she gave that it would have been some time ago. Probably, if I remember my history right, about the time when a certain gamekeeper was expelled?"

Albus smiled wryly. The Black family had such a long memory, and some of them, at least, had done a very good job using that memory carefully. Andromeda and Narcissa were really quite a bit alike.

"That is something to go on," he said cheerfully. "It would be more to go on if she could get the diary to me."

"I'll see what we can do, Albus, but frankly it will take some doing."

"Do what you can, my dear," Albus said, gripping her shoulder. "And I will see what I can do in the meantime. There is a great deal I've yet to learn. A great deal that needs to be done."

He kissed Nymphadora's now-black hair, which turned purple while he was kissing it, and he left the Tonks home, carefully sidestepping several stacks of papers on the way out.

/-/

Narcissa took a deep breath, dabbing on a bit of lipstick before adjusting her hat and pulling on her gloves.

"Darling," she said cheerfully, forcing her best smile. "I'm going into London for some shopping. I'll be in the vault. Do you need anything while I'm there? Perhaps I can save you a trip."

Lucius looked up thoughtfully from the papers he was reading, and then he said, "No, dear. Just let me know how much you've withdrawn when you get home."

Narcissa told him she would, knowing she would be leaving one very particular thing out.

/-/

Cara greeted her pale confidant with a kiss on the cheek before leading her to the sitting room of Selwyn Manor.

"I need you to pass something along for me," Narcissa said, taking off her gloves and setting them on the table of the sitting room, with a small glance to the house-elf. "You see, if our elf makes a delivery to a certain sister of mine, it would be terribly suspicious."

"I see," Cara said, watching Narcissa take a small book out of her pocket and slide it into a box with a very beautiful doll inside. "Your niece's birthday is coming up?"

"I've bought her a doll, you know," Narcissa said, smiling absently. "I picked up Sirius's gift as well, he's so absent about these things. I wanted to be sure he didn't get her the same one."

"Oh, so thoughtful of you," Cara said, smiling nervously at Narcissa as her mother passed the open door. It really wasn't safe for Cara to close doors, even in her own home. There was too much suspicion around her, still. "I'll have the elf deliver it once I've written a note from us. Let me see…."

She found some parchment and a quill and sat down with Narcissa, carefully writing out a letter.

 _Dear Andromeda,_

 _We haven't had the privilege of meeting, given the particulars of social standing, but Sirius wanted me to pass along our gift for your daughter on her birthday. I would have liked an opportunity to wrap it, but Narcissa tells me that my timing would be tight if I were to do so. Perhaps you could wrap it for me?_

 _I hope you and all of yours are well._

 _Cara Black_

Signing her name as a Black was still a bit surreal, but Narcissa gave her an encouraging nod as Cara attached the letter to the box, sealed the edges for travel, and called the family elf with strict instructions to deliver the box to Mrs. Andromeda Tonks at once.

"So," Cara said cheerfully once the box was on its way. "How are the potions you were telling me about? Any luck yet?"

Narcissa frowned and shook her head.

"It is difficult with Lucius gone so often, but I have great hopes to be pregnant by year's end."

Cara nodded, glad Sirius hadn't brought up children. Between the war and what they were up to, it didn't seem the right time to think about bringing children into the world.

/-/

Albus turned the little book over in his hands, felt the leather, checked the dates, flipped through it to be certain it was empty.

Except that it wasn't empty. Albus could feel the weight of Dark Magic on it, and he wondered what it was about this item that had been so important to Tom that he would conceal a part of his soul in it.

Albus set it down again as he recalled what Andromeda had said to him: about the time that Rubeus Hagrid had been expelled, Tom's doing. A murder was required for the sealing of a piece of his soul inside an object, but this book was from when he was in school.

From the year the Chamber of Secrets was opened, and a young girl was killed.

"Oh, Tom," he sighed, turning the book over. "What have you done?"

He had been going through the memories he had been collecting, and he had a pretty good idea that the cup was one stolen from a woman who had died under suspicious circumstances just before Tom vanished, years ago. The woman's house-elf had been implicated, but Albus never believed that Hokey had been guilty.

What troubled Albus the most was that a locket had gone missing from Borgin and Burkes around the same time, disappeared into the night just like Tom Riddle, and neither the cup nor the locket had ever turned up.

There were pieces missing, pieces to the puzzle that he couldn't wrap his mind around. Too little was known about the locket to begin to search for it, and there was a question of how to get the cup out of the Lestrange vault. Cara was a Lestrange by blood, and very likely she would be able to access the vault, but would Sirius be willing to put her in that position? Would Albus be willing, knowing what would become of her if Bellatrix ever discovered what had happened?

Albus went to his pensieve. There were memories to revisit of his own for a change, memories of knowing Tom back when he was still known as Tom Riddle. And then he had a village to visit, and a chat to have with Horace. So much to be done.

/-/

Sirius sat in the corner with his drink, watching his cousin as she cackled at some joke, probably one she told. He'd been out of the loop with Narcissa lately, but from what Cara said, things were working out fine. It was his turn to do his duty in this matter, and he felt slightly sick at what it was he had to do. Still, there was one person Snape and Sirius could agree on despising: Bellatrix.

If there was anything the two could believably bond over, it was a hatred of Bella.

Snape set down his drink, not leaving a moment to waste. Bella had a full glass, and with the way she was downing them, there was every chance it wouldn't stay full long. Snape nodded slightly to Regulus across the room and made to cross to him, seemingly accidentally bumping Bella's arm on the way, spilling the drink all over the robes.

The stain would be impossible to notice. She only ever wore black. Still, Bella was outraged with the indignity of the situation, and her wand came out, as could be expected. Severus Snape never apologized, so he looked at her with his usual cold sneer and said, "If you can keep your arm out of people's way, perhaps you've had too many, Bella."

Sirius snorted into his own drink as he watched his cousin's face twist in outrage. She screeched something about knowing his place, the usual drivel, and made to curse him when he turned away to continue on toward Regulus, and Sirius lazily tossed up a shield, blocking what was likely some nasty curse, probably an illegal one.

The room went silent with shock, and the two cousins narrowed their eyes at each other, Sirius standing smoothly, setting down his near-empty glass, strolling across the ballroom to have a word with his cousin. Of course, he had no interest in making it a quiet word, but he so wanted to see the look on her face.

"That's not on, Bella, dear," he said condescendingly. "Cursing a man when his back is turned. Afraid he'd beat you if he was looking?"

"That half-blood rat could never beat me," she hissed.

Sirius smirked and her and shrugged.

"I seem to recall you cursing a few people with their backs turned, Black," Rabastan said, amused, from a chair about ten feet away. "Severus was certainly one of them."

"The difference," Sirius said, not bothering to look at Rabastan, "is that I have left my schoolboy days behind me, and some of us obviously haven't. Tell me, Bella, what would the Dark Lord say if he knew you'd injured his Potions Master for the little matter of some spilt wine? I think he wouldn't be well-pleased, don't you?"

For a long moment, she said nothing. She tried to deflect the matter, finally saying, "I wonder what Severus thinks, needing a Gryffindor as his protector."

"I'm not stupid, Bella," Sirius drawled, lazily. "I know better than anyone here that Severus Snape does not need my protection in a fair fight. But I'm also not stupid enough to think the Dark Lord would thank me if I let you attack him in an unfair one."

"And you think I believe you're trying to garner favor with the Dark Lord?" she said, amused.

"Of course not. But I'm certainly not trying to lose it. And if you were smart, cousin, you'd be a little more careful not to do the same."

The light was too low to see if her cheeks tinged pink, but Sirius walked out onto the balcony, satisfied that they were. He grabbed a fresh drink from the side table on his way out, and he suppressed a shiver in the cool night air. Several minutes later, on perfect timing, Snape walked out into the night air as well and said softly, "I still hate you, Black."

"I still hate you, too, Snape. And when all this is over, I hope to go on hating you for a very long time. But whatever I'm willing to do, whatever I'm willing to suffer, my brother and my wife don't deserve to die, and if being civil to you keeps them alive, I'll do it as long as I have to."

The two men did not say any more to each other. Anything they might have said couldn't be said in present company, and neither man saw much point in meaningless small talk.

/-/

Albus sat down at headquarters with a cup of tea after a meeting, and he set a plate of biscuits in front of Alastor, who frowned at them suspiciously.

"I need a favor," Albus said softly, "and it's a rather large one, and I may need it again several times."

"When?" Alastor said.

Albus felt his lips twitching into a small smile. Alastor was a very giving man, for someone as paranoid as he was, and he never had to be asked if he would do something, only when he could fit it into his schedule. Albus Dumbledore had known for years that if he ever needed something from Alastor Moody, he need only ask for it and it would only be a question of when.

"Tonight, the old headquarters. We need somewhere we could burn to the ground if things go wrong."

Alastor's good eye twinkled as he picked up a biscuit from the plate, waved it at Albus cheerfully, and said, "Now, I like the sound of that!"

/-/

No relief came to Albus until the flames were out.

Fiendfyre was a dangerous thing, not to be utilized lightly, and really if it were anyone but him and Alastor, two people would be nearly enough of a precaution. However, only a very few things could destroy a Horcrux, and since he didn't have a pet basilisk to hand, Fiendfyre would have to do.

"All that for a little book," Alastor snorted as Albus turned over the charred remains of the diary, attempting to get a sense for the completion of their task. Judging from the menace of the flames, there had certainly been a great deal of evil in the book, and something in that filled Albus with melancholy.

That there seemed to be nothing else but darkness in Tom's soul, perhaps. To think that this was made very likely when he was a teenager, and yet he still had nothing but this darkness in his soul. Perhaps there was never anything that could have been done for Tom.

"Not just any little book, Alastor," he said softly. "But now it is. There will be more things, when I can find them."

"This has to do with Voldemort, doesn't it?"

"Indeed, it does. But let me have my secrets for now, old friend. I will tell you everything, when all is finished."

Alastor snorted, pulling on his cloak and kicking the leg of what was left of the end table they had used to hold the book.

"If we live that long."

/-/

The dining room of Malfoy Manor had never been darker to Sirius's memory. He sat beside his brother, but chillingly, he sat at Voldemort's right hand, Bellatrix pouting at his left, followed by her husband and brother-in-law. Snape was on the other side of Regulus, and if Regulus hadn't been a Black, Sirius had a feeling that it would have been Snape beside him, and Regulus somewhere further down the table.

"Who do you have for me, Lucius?" Voldemort said softly. "And have they come to us willingly?"

"Most willingly, my Lord," Lucius said eagerly. "He is anxious to meet you." Sirius held in the snort that swelled inside of him. It would take a fool not to be anxious about meeting Voldemort. "Augustus Rookwood, from the Department of Mysteries."

At this, nearly everyone at the table perked up. Voldemort had been looking for someone inside the Ministry for some time now, but Rookwood was not only in one of the most difficult-to-infiltrate departments, but he was very high-up in the overall Ministry hierarchy. A half-blood, Sirius was certain Voldemort was thinking, but a useful one, like Snape.

"I see," Voldemort said, pressing his fingers together. "A meeting shall certainly be arranged. That is nearly everything, however I will soon be requiring the use of someone's house-elf."

Another sign that his blood was less than pure, Sirius thought with some satisfaction, that Voldemort didn't have one of his own to use. How ironic that someone so obsessed with purity would have none of the advantages he championed.

"It would be our honor, my Lord," Sirius said softly, "if you would make use of Kreacher."

"Then I shall, Sirius," Voldemort said, not bothering to look at him. "That will be all. You are all dismissed."

To Sirius, it was a win-win. Should something happen to Kreacher, he would be shot of the unpleasant elf, but Regulus could order Kreacher to tell him everything and Kreacher would do it very happily, and whatever it was Voldemort wasn't telling them would be known. They could have achieved the same result with the Malfoy elf through Narcissa, but Sirius hadn't wanted to risk Bellatrix volunteering before Lucius had a chance.

Sirius went out with Regulus and said, "I'll leave the issue of Kreacher's involvement in your hands, Reg. He prefers you."

"Of course," Regulus said softly. "I believe I know what to do. Will you and Cara be around for tea tomorrow? Father has been asking after her."

"Has he really?"

This was surprising news, because he hadn't been certain their father had been fully aware of Cara when she met him, but Regulus's solemn nod told him that this was not some secretive way to get Cara and Sirius somewhere safe to talk. Somehow, for some reason, Orion Black really had been asking to see Cara.

"We certainly will, then," Sirius said, squeezing his brother's shoulder.

/-/

The house was warmer, happier than the first time Cara had been there, and she got a sense that the house-elf, Kreacher was happy to see her. The same couldn't be said for Sirius, who seemed to have some kind of history with the elf that kept the two from being civil beyond the constraints of propriety, which was odd for a master-elf relationship. But Cara didn't ask. She was too busy being ushered up to see her frail father-in-law, who was apparently even sitting up when he heard she was coming to see him.

Although Sirius wanted to go with her, she went in alone. Apparently, Orion Black had only asked for Cara, and she got a suspicious feeling from the way Sirius's face twitched, this meant that Orion had expressly asked not to see his son.

Orion was sitting up, his eyes brighter, watching her enter the room. He weakly motioned for her to sit in a chair that had been moved to his bedside and she did so, smiling at him, although conscious of her nervousness.

"How are you feeling today, sir?" she asked.

If he heard the question, he ignored it. Perhaps it wasn't important to him, how he felt.

"Sirius," he said anxiously, reaching for her hand. She quickly took his hand in both of hers, feeling the strange dryness of age on his wrinkled skin, the swelling of his veins and the softness of the skin around his knuckles.

"He's outside," she said gently. "If you want to see him."

"No," he said, and at first she thought that was very rude of him, but she realized that the look in his eyes wasn't that of disdain or anger or disappointment, none of the things she expected given the history Sirius had related to her of his childhood. It was something closer to fear, or perhaps shame. "You're very beautiful. C-Cara."

She could feel her cheeks burning as she muttered her thanks, petting his hand steadily. He seemed to like having her hold his hand, so she tried to not feel uncomfortable with the way it reminded her of a claw.

"Is he happy?" Orion asked. Yes, certainly fear. "Sirius. He's happy? I only ever wanted him to be happy."

And suddenly, she realized why Orion Black had been distant from his son, why he hadn't welcomed him back with open arms, why he had asked expressly not to see him. Orion Black understood his son, perhaps better than anyone else in the family, and he couldn't give Sirius his blessing for the choices he had made and still save face, so he had said nothing for years. And now that Sirius was back, his concern wasn't the matter of money or society or any other things which didn't matter to a dying man. It was a question of whether Sirius's choices were his own, whether Sirius was doing what he wanted, or whether he had given up his happiness. Cara wondered whether Orion had perhaps sacrificed his own happiness in youth, married his cousin for the sake of the family. What had a young Orion Black given up for the sake of the noble and most ancient house of Black?

"Yes," she said, lying and smiling. "He's very happy. He's worried about you, you know. How do you feel today? What shall I tell him?"

At the very first word, the man sank back slightly on his bed, like a great weight had been lifted from him and he could, at last, relax. His hand went slightly limp in her hand, and if she hadn't seen him smile slightly, she would have been worried he'd died then and there.

"You're very beautiful," he said, like he had to force the words out, but every one of them mattered to him. "I'm tired."

Cara kissed his hand as his eyes closed, and she lingered a bit until he began to snore softly, just to be certain he wasn't dead before she stepped back into the hall, where Sirius was waiting impatiently. He looked up at her with wide, almost child-like eyes, beseeching her to tell him everything.

But she didn't know how to say it, and she wasn't sure Orion would want her to. She slipped her hand into Sirius's and kissed it, surprised to feel that his hands were the same size as his father's, but with more muscle. Perhaps, years ago, Orion's hands felt like this in someone's hand.

"He's sleeping," she said, smiling at him. "He loves you, you know."

Sirius snorted at that, but she couldn't help but notice that his shoulders relaxed just a little bit as they walked down the stairs to the sitting room.

 **A/N: This extra update is thanks to reviewer** _ **MyNightWish**_ **! I hope y'all have enjoyed it! I LOVE Orion in this story, and every scene with him is a scene I'm just dying to throw at you all. This was one of the best to write.**

 **Review Prompt: Who was your favorite POV from this chapter, and what do you think that character's favorite food is?**

 **-C**


	15. The Badger and the Snake

Narcissa followed her sister into the small, Muggle house, taking off the hood of her cloak as soon as Andromeda closed the door.

"Tea?"

"Please."

The sisters sat down in the kitchen, sipping their tea for several minutes, just enjoying the familiarity of each other's company. Narcissa had been very disappointed when Andromeda eloped with Ted Tonks – not disappointed with Andromeda, but with the idea that anything could separate Andromeda from the family. Although there had been a sizable age gap between them, they had always been close: solidarity against Bella's bouts of insanity.

"He's destroyed it," Andromeda said softly. "He has a method, and he believes there are more than the two. Ideas on getting the one from Bella?"

"Well, I certainly can't get it," Narcissa said thoughtfully. "Not alone, anyway. Cara could, but getting her in would be difficult."

Andromeda sighed, tossing black curls over her shoulder.

"The goblins won't care, as long as she has a legal right to access the vault, and a key."

Narcissa knew there was something she was forgetting. She groaned, rubbing her eyes. A key.

"We'll think of something," she said. "Bella's not going to hand it over. Rabastan has a bit of a soft spot for her. I think he'll let her in if we come up with a good enough story and she can deliver it convincingly."

Andromeda smiled tightly and said, "They're going to have disgustingly beautiful children, aren't they? I saw a picture of them together in the social pages last week."

"I have to say, I'm jealous," Narcissa said sadly. "But then, Sirius always had the best of everything, even when he was disowned. Uncle Alphard didn't give you a penny."

"Sirius didn't leave for love. He left because he was bored."

It wasn't the whole of the matter, but Narcissa did suspect that a lot of Sirius's issues with the family did stem from boredom.

The two sisters finished their tea, said very little, and kissed each other's cheeks before Narcissa put up her hood, left the house, and slipped away into the night.

/-/

With a deep breath, Cara tapped the door to Rabastan's personal study. He didn't really have much in the way of business, as a second son, but he used the room to hide away with the elaborate models he made with magic and clay.

"Enter."

He was pondering the model of Lestrange Manor he was planning to give his brother on his birthday. He didn't look up to see if it was Cara, but somehow he knew.

"What do you think of the rosebushes?" he asked, leaning forward and narrowing his eyes. Cara tilted her head for a better look at them, in front of the lower-level windows, behind the topiaries.

"They're a little bit fat," she admitted, shrugging. "The windows are getting better."

"Hmm." He continued to frown at the rosebushes for a minute before he looked up at her, eyes hard, face unreadable. "What do you need?"

"If later would be better, I can go," she said anxiously.

She didn't have to act. Rabastan made her very nervous, but that was what he liked about her, she knew. She was the only person in his life who was more afraid of him than of his older brother, the only person who had a particular aversion to him. Not that it had anything to do with him, but she didn't have the heart to tell him that it was his resemblance to their father that really terrified her.

"You are here now," he said sternly. "What do you need?"

"It's silly, really," she said, winding her fingers around the ribbon she'd forgotten she was carrying. "But…. Well, Narcissa has been giving me some advice for…." She took a deep breath. "I'm trying to get pregnant."

He quirked an amused eyebrow.

"And this has to do with me and not your husband because…?"

"Narcissa suggested that I try a particular potion she's been using, but it needs to be drank in goblin-wrought silver, and the Selwyn vault doesn't have any. But she thought that the Lestrange vault did, and I…." She flushed. "I know Bella wouldn't approve, but I'll put it back, I promise."

She was surprised when he stood, his attention completely turned from the model, from everything that had been much more important than her moments ago, and there was a thoughtful, almost soft expression in his eyes that she'd never seen there before. Rabastan touched her chin and considered her.

"It is good to see you taking to your role," he said in a low voice. "You are right, Bella wouldn't approve, but I like to do things she wouldn't approve of. We do have goblin-wrought silver in the vault; several items, in fact. I will give Narcissa my key, and she will take you tomorrow while Bella is away. I will be too busy. She will return the key, and the silver when you are ready to put it back. She will know what you need."

Cara nodded, thanked him earnestly, and was surprised when he kissed her forehead.

"Think nothing of it, sister," he said, smirking as he sat down again, "I like the idea that your husband needed my help with something, even if he doesn't know about it. We speak of this to no one but Narcissa, understood?"

She told him that she did, thanked him again, and hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her before he snapped at her to leave. Another deep breath when she was alone in the corridor, and Cara realized her hands were trembling violently. She felt dirty where his lips had touched her, but she and Narcissa would be able to get into the vault. It was more than she could have hoped.

/-/

Regulus paced his bedroom, turning over in his mind the instructions he had given Kreacher. He was to observe, to do everything the Dark Lord told him, to come home, and to tell Regulus or Sirius everything, whoever he found first. Depending on how long it took, it was likely to be Regulus who was waiting for him, but when Regulus had business to attend to, Sirius planned to pay their mother a visit on the pretext of arrangements to procure some Black finery for Cara, as though the woman cared about such things. Cara always looked uncomfortable when she was supposed to wear jewelry.

The instructions seemed to be watertight, without room for any errors, but Regulus was not as clever as Sirius or Severus, or even Narcissa, and he worried that he missed something important.

"Regulus, dear," his mother called. "One of your friends is here!"

He frowned, but he came down to the front hall, where Severus was waiting, stiff, ignoring the attempts of Regulus's mother to take his cloak. Clearly he had not mentioned his surname, or she would have likely made no such overtures.

"Come, Severus," Regulus said, leading him upstairs to the sitting room, sealing the door as soon as it was shut. Severus sat without being bid to, but Regulus really didn't care. "The diary is destroyed."

"I had wondered," Severus said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully where he was beginning to grow some facial hair. Perhaps he was jealous of Sirius's beard, although Regulus knew the man would never admit being jealous of anything Sirius had.

Except, perhaps, his bloodline, but that was only natural.

"And the cup?"

"Narcissa doesn't give me details, but she says it is in motion. She and your sister-in-law are dealing with it, and the fewer details they share the better. Your elf?"

"Not yet returned," Regulus said. "But it has only been two hours. I don't know what he wanted him for. Cissy said that Dumbledore expects more than just the two, but he needs to see the cup to be sure what to look into."

Severus nodded and the two young men waited in silence for the house-elf for about an hour before Severus said that they could pass the time productively. Regulus didn't want to do that, but he knew he needed Severus's help if he was going to become proficient in Occlumency.

"Alright, then," he sighed. "Hit me."

/-/

Narcissa and Cara looked like a strange pair walking up the steps to Gringotts Bank, both pale, one with long blonde hair, the other with long dark hair. Narcissa walked with surety, but Cara was only just learning how to hold herself with the comportment of a pureblood of their status.

Cara followed Narcissa to the first available goblin, who had long, visible nose hairs and almost carnivorous teeth when he smiled at them.

"My cousin wishes to enter her family vault."

The goblin looked at Cara with amusement, and Narcissa could see that the girl was anxious under the scrutiny. But then, this was not a tell. Anyone who had seen her at all could say that she was always anxious when she wasn't on Sirius's arm. It was sweet, really, the way he calmed her.

"Which family?"

Cara took a deep breath and said, "Lestrange. My key."

She passed the key to the goblin, who examined it for authenticity briefly before motioning for the two women to follow him.

Narcissa folded her hands, smiling at Cara primly as they settled into the cart.

The Lestrange vault was, as with the Black and Malfoy and Selwyn vaults, in the deepest levels of the bank. Cara twisted a hair ribbon in her hands as they went, and was clearly somewhat nauseous by the time they reached the vault.

"Key, please," the goblin said, and Cara passed it to him. He pressed his hand to the door, as it could only be opened by a Gringotts goblin. It was only necessarily to have a key for members not immediately written into the vault. Bella and Rudolphus could enter without it, but Rabastan and Cara required the key, as would any minors.

"Here we are," Narcissa said, motioning for Cara to go in first, which she did. A quick glance around the vault oriented the blonde woman, and she pointed to the gold cup first, then to one of the goblin-wrought silver ones. "Let's grab one of those, and that one. See which one he likes better."

"I agree, they're both lovely," Cara said nervously. "Alright. You grab that one. I'll take this one."

Cara grabbed the silver one, Narcissa the Horcrux, and they put them in the bag Narcissa had brought.

"That will be all for today," Cara said brightly. "Thank you."

The goblin obviously didn't care what they were doing or why, but it was good to have a story, just in case. The two women left the bank arm-in-arm, and Narcissa kissed Cara on the cheek and whispered, "I'll drop by for tea to check in."

Cara smiled and said that she would be waiting. Narcissa checked her watch and decided to drop by the apothecary before seeing Andromeda. It would be too early to go right away.

/-/

After viewing the memory Horace had finally, begrudgingly, given him, Albus removed his spectacles and rubbed his eyes tiredly. It was tampered with, and very poorly. All of the information Albus truly needed was blocked, and there was no way Albus could convince Horace to give up the memory.

The one thing it had proven was that Horace did have the information they needed: the number of Horcruxes Tom Riddle had made, or was in the process of making.

Perhaps, he thought, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands, perhaps he was not approaching Horace from the right angle. Duty was not the way to appeal to a Slytherin. He needed to have something Horace wanted, something Horace valued.

He smiled, closing his eyes, and decided that he would have to pay a visit to Lily Potter and pass a message on to Sirius.

/-/

Narcissa slipped inside after Andromeda opened the door.

"I can't stay long," she said, pulling a golden cup out of her bag and passing it to her sister. "Only to drop this off. Dumbledore needs that as soon as you can arrange it."

"It'll be done," Andromeda said with a frown. "How did you manage to get it?"

Narcissa only smiled, kissed her sister's cheek, and slipped back out before she could be tempted by a cup of tea. It was sweet, in a way, how Rabastan pretended to dislike Cara. He wanted so badly the approval of his brother, his sister-in-law, the Dark Lord, but he had always been fond of Cara, even as a child. When Bella announced her plan to use Cara as bait for Sirius, Rabastan had been the only dissenting voice.

But as with life for so many of them, it was easier for him to pretend to be indifferent than to allow his feelings to show. It was safer for Rabastan, for Cara, for everyone. As their dealings with Sirius had proven once and for all, sentiment was a leash to be led upon, and only a fool exposed their sentiment to those with a taste for power.

/-/

When Kreacher returned, the sky outside had gone dark and Walburga Black had gone to bed. Regulus had fallen asleep in the sitting room with a book on international magical organizations circa 1860, and the book had slipped from his hand sometime when he dozed off. Regulus's first thought when Kreacher woke him was that his father would be angry about the bent pages from dropping the book, but then Regulus recalled that he was not nine years old anymore and Orion Black never saw his books, much less knew if the pages were bent. His eyesight wasn't strong enough for reading.

Regulus's second thought was that Kreacher looked an absolute mess.

"What happened?" he asked eagerly. "What was it, Kreacher?"

He summoned a glass of water for the elf and waited impatiently as the elf recovered enough to tell his tale. He told Regulus of a cave on a cliff face by a stormy sea, of a secret entrance to the cave, a boat that could only carry one, a lake in the dark cave filled with Inferi. Kreacher related a potion that had to be drank to be removed, and how he drank it on the Dark Lord's orders. It caused Kreacher to see horrors, to relieve his worst memories, to torture him with regrets.

At this point, Kreacher broke down in tears, and Regulus took time to comfort him before gently urging on the story.

"The Dark Lord placed a locket in the basin," Kreacher said. "And he left Kreacher. The potion was in the basin again, but Kreacher was thirsty. Kreacher drank from the lake, and the dead attacked."

"And?" Regulus pressed, hoping to see a way out.

"And Kreacher returned to Master Regulus."

Regulus sighed, nodding, frustrated. As he had feared, it was only Kreacher's higher magic, the binding magic of following the will of the family served that had kept him alive. But they had to get the locket. It was clearly a Horcrux.

If Regulus told Sirius, Sirius would insist on going. Perhaps he would make Kreacher drink, but likely he would drink himself. Gryffindor chivalry. But if anything happened to Sirius, it would drive their mother to madness and probably kill their father, losing him again after only having him back such a short time.

No, Regulus had to go, and he had to get the locket, and he had to do it now. It was the only way.

"Kreacher, find a locket," he said. "Any locket. Bring it to me. We're going back there."

/-/

Sirius watched as Cara peeled off her dress, leaning forward slightly so that he could see not only her back, but a bit of her front in the bathroom mirror. He'd never really wanted to get married. That was always James's thing, but it did have its advantages.

"You saw Narcissa today," he said casually.

"We visited the bank," Cara said, pulling on a nightgown. "She sends her best."

He hummed, laying back again wondering what was taking Regulus so long with Kreacher. Maybe it was something where Voldemort needed Kreacher for a couple of days. He wondered why that possibility hadn't occurred to him before.

"You should see the model Rabastan's working on," Cara said, coming back into their bedroom. He smiled at her, not really listening to what she was saying. He liked the way her hair seemed to glow, like a halo, when candlelight caught it. That was one thing he had missed, living in the Muggle world, the glow of candlelight. Electricity had always seemed so clinical.

Cara sat beside him, swinging her legs onto the bed, slipping them under the lifted covers before curling up against Sirius.

"Dumbledore's called a meeting tomorrow," Sirius said, brushing a stray strand of hair from her eyes. "I've already left a message for the Dark Lord that I will be fulfilling obligations as an Order member tomorrow."

"Left a message?" she said, stretching. "Has the Dark Lord gone somewhere?"

He said nothing, just hummed as he pressed his face to her neck. She and Narcissa had a task, and they had fulfilled it without any disclosure to the men. For their safety, Snape and Regulus and Sirius had agreed not to involve the women in whatever Kreacher was up to. After all, it might not be about the Horcruxes at all.

Sirius breathed in the smell of his wife, of strawberries and the tiniest hint of cinnamon, and he closed his eyes. Sooner or later, it would all be over. Sooner or later, he'd be free, and as long as Cara and James and Lily and Remus were alright, it really didn't matter what else became of him. He felt one of her hands curl into his hair as she settled in beside him, and Sirius knew with absolute certainty and clarity for the briefest of moments that everything he had done was right.

 **A/N: How awesome are you guys? Incredibly super-awesome. I woke this morning to find that you've earned SECOND bonus update this week, and it's only Wednesday! Y'all could conceivably earn a third before the regularly scheduled update!**

 **This is dedicated to** _ **MyNightWish**_ **, whose review of the last bonus chapter pushed the review numbers over the edge. Cheers, dear!**

 **Review Prompt: I confess, Rabastan is one of my dearest characters. Choose Rabastan or Narcissa (kind of my foci in this chapter) and tell me how you feel about them, and if it's changed since you started reading this chapter.**

 **-C**


	16. Wading Through

Sirius was due to check on Regulus in the morning, relieve him in the wait for Kreacher. He was let in by his mother, who looked tired. She offered him tea, but he declined. As much as he and Kreacher didn't get on, Sirius would take the elf's tea over his mother's any day.

When Sirius went to the sitting room, where he was expecting to find Regulus, there was no one. For a moment he thought Regulus might have left for the toilet, or perhaps decided he would get a few hours' sleep in his own bed. Sirius sat and waited with every expectation of patience, but then he noticed a book on the floor, left open down with the pages getting crumpled. Sirius normally didn't give much thought to the state of a book's pages – that was Lily's thing – but he could remember with painful accuracy the livid reaction of their father when Regulus had accidentally bent the pages in one of his books, years ago.

And Regulus was the good son. He never made the same mistake twice. He wouldn't have left a book like this without very good reason.

Sirius was just picking up the book to try to smooth it out and put it away when there was a very loud crack and suddenly Kreacher was there, on the rug, with a very unconscious Regulus.

At least, he thought his brother was unconscious, initially. Then Kreacher began to sob over Regulus, hugging his brother's face to him, his large eyes spilling tears, and Sirius just knew.

His brother was dead.

"Kreacher?" Sirius said gently, ignoring the tightness in his own chest. He could grieve later, when there wasn't work to be done.

The elf looked up at him through his tears, as though seeing Sirius for the first time.

"Master Sirius," he choked. "Master Regulus is…. Kreacher could not…"

Although this elf had contributed greatly to Sirius's unpleasant childhood, he couldn't help feeling terribly sorry for him. Kreacher's devotion to Regulus had been absolute, and Sirius had a horrible feeling that Regulus had sacrificed himself to save Kreacher. It was just the stupid kind of nobility his brother would have done.

"Tell me," Sirius said, just firm enough to make sure it was an order. "Tell me everything that happened."

/-/

Albus sat down with Andromeda, who handed him the cup. He held it up to the light, feeling its cool weight in his hands.

"I take it it's another one," Andromeda said softly. "How many are there?"

"I do not know," he said, slipping it into his robes. It was as he thought – a cup once belonging to Helga Hufflepuff, recognizable as the one stolen from Hepzibah Smith. There had been another thing stolen, something Albus had recently discovered was a locket rumored to have belonged to Salazar Slytherin. There was some work to be done to determine more, but Albus suspected it meant even more to Tom Riddle than just that. "But I hope to find out very soon."

He had a meeting scheduled with Sirius and Lily, and he certainly hoped that all would go forward with ease. Horace was a predictable man, but he was not a simple one.

"I hope you can end things quickly," Andromeda said. She tucked a bit of her hair behind one ear and glanced down at Nymphadora, who was pretending to fold her socks. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a war."

"Nor do I," Albus said.

With their business done, he took his leave, pressing her hand and giving her a comforting smile, but Albus knew that it would take more than that to give comfort to Andromeda Tonks.

/-/

Sirius gripped his hair as he tried to decide what to do. Regulus would be missed; it wasn't as though Sirius could just tell his mother or Voldemort what happened, nor could he allow it to be discovered. It would be discovered, if the body was seen, because he had clearly been strangled.

"Kreacher," Sirius said, his voice shaking, "we have to protect Regulus. We have to finish his work."

"Yes, Master Sirius."

"Hide that locket," he said. "I'll come back for it soon, but I can't do anything with it now. We'll destroy it like he wanted, but right now it cannot be seen by anyone but you."

"Yes, Master Sirius."

He took a deep breath.

"I may be sending my wife for it."

"Yes, Master Sirius."

Sirius raised his wand to his brother's corpse and felt slightly sick as he quickly burned the body.

"Hide the ashes," he said. "We'll find a place to dispose of them with dignity. Can you think of a place, Kreacher?"

Kreacher said that he certainly would try. Sirius nodded and said, "Do not tell our parents. I will give them a story that protects him, and them."

"Yes, Master Sirius."

"But first," he said, standing with some effort. He was surprised when Kreacher reached out to help him steady himself. "Thank you," he muttered, reflecting on all the strange contacts this twist in his life was leading to. "First I need to see the Dark Lord."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. He couldn't cry. He had to focus on burning the body, on the shoes as they burned. When the Dark Lord looked at Sirius's memories, there could be no doubt at all that Sirius's story was true, or they were all dead.

/-/

"Where is Sirius?" Lily asked, pacing anxiously. "I hope nothing's happened."

"It is possible he has been summoned," Dumbledore said gently. "He will be here. We simply have to be patient."

"Can you at least tell me what this is about?" she asked, sitting down and touching her hands to the tea she had poured herself but consumed none of.

He folded his hands and said, "Let it suffice that you will be informed of an operation he has been undergoing, so that you can help it be carried out. But you must be discrete. For James's safety, he must not know what you know."

Lily didn't like the sound of that, but she agreed to it. She had a feeling Sirius needed her, and James would understand, in the end, if it had to do with helping Sirius.

/-/

Sirius bowed his head low and steadied himself.

"You were going to see Dumbledore," Voldemort said, frowning at him.

"I will be going there directly," Sirius said. "He is expecting me and he will be curious, but I had to report an…unfortunate incident before I went. And I need to know what to tell my family about the matter, what the public story is."

"The matter?"

Sirius looked up, looked him in the eye, and said, "My brother was looking to betray us. I found him arranging to meet with members of the Order, to betray my secrets."

Voldemort folded his hands and Sirius could see in his mind's eye the body of his brother burning down to ashes on the sitting room carpet, and Sirius swallowed, breaking eye contact and looking at his feet, his hands shaking again.

"I see," Voldemort said. "An unfortunate occurrence."

"I don't know how to tell my mother," Sirius said, his throat tight. "Or what to tell her."

"Tell her he was murdered by followers of Dumbledore. There is no need for her to learn the truth. She still has a son, and you have a duty to do. And tell Dumbledore and his followers that I had him killed for treachery. They will not be surprised."

"Yes, my Lord."

"Go now, Sirius. We mustn't make the old man suspicious."

Sirius murmured that he understood, and he went immediately to headquarters to meet with Dumbledore. There was good and bad news to share, and he hoped that Dumbledore had some good news in his turn.

/-/

Sirius trembled as he walked into headquarters, and Lily stood abruptly, hurrying over to him, helping him to a chair.

"I'll pour you a cuppa," she said, but he waved her off.

"I'll have another for you," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "A locket. I'll have Cara send it to Dromeda."

Lily frowned, turning to Dumbledore, who seemed to understand what Sirius was muttering about.

"Where is it now?"

"Kreacher's hiding it. He…."

Sirius began to shake with sobs, and the other two watched him, waiting until he could take a few deep breaths and say, looking at his hands, "Reg got it in a cave. The official story is he was trying to leave and Voldemort killed him."

"And what did you tell Voldemort?"

"That he was trying to expose me and I had to kill him to stop him."

"The body?"

"I burned it. I'm telling my parents that he was killed by people fighting the Death Eaters."

Lily felt an ache somewhere between her lungs and her stomach, and she wanted to hug Sirius as he buried his face in his hands. He had to kill his own brother? No, that wasn't what he said. Regulus must have died getting this thing, this locket for Dumbledore and Sirius had to burn his body to keep the truth from getting back to his parents or the Death Eaters.

"Let me know if there is any way we can ease your pain, Sirius," Dumbledore said gently. "But we are here about something you and Lily can do to help me define what else we're looking for."

Sitting up straighter, Lily said, "What exactly are we looking for?"

Albus Dumbledore very patiently explained to her a piece of very Dark magic called a Horcrux, the method of splitting one's soul and hiding part of it in an object to create a kind of immortality. She realized this must be something Voldemort had done, and Sirius was hunting them down for the Headmaster.

Pressing his fingertips together, Dumbledore said, "A small group of defectors have come together to provide me with information, and even several of the Horcruxes. I will be picking one up tonight, as it happens, so if Cara can move the locket in time that would save me a trip." Sirius nodded and muttered that he'd see what he could do. "The trouble is, Lily, we do not know how many he has made. As three have already surfaced, it is possible we are dealing with many more. Before Lord Voldemort can be killed, all of these pieces must be destroyed or he will come back."

Lily and Sirius looked at each other, and she saw a hollowness, a melancholy in his gaze that dampened the light and laughter she had always associated with Sirius's eyes. It was chilling, and she wondered just how much he had done to keep himself buried deep enough to find these Horcruxes.

"How do I help?" Lily asked.

"The person who Voldemort confided his thoughts on the matter has given me a tampered version of the memory," Dumbledore said. "I suspect he feels embarrassed or ashamed of the conversation. I need you to do him a favor, however, so extreme and flattering that he will feel compelled to give you the true conversation. You are one of his all-time favorite students, Lily. You are also very good at managing him, with charms that I do not possess."

"What is it that you think I can do for him?" Lily asked, puzzled. "I mean, the favor. I'm not like so many of his Slug Club. I'm not especially famous or successful. I can't discuss my work, and James inherited our wealth."

He smiled and said, "No, nothing like that, my dear. Perhaps you didn't realize this, but there are certain families Horace liked to…collect. It was devastating to Horace not only that Sirius was not in Slytherin, but also that he showed no interest in joining the Slug Club, and he wanted the whole set of Black children." Sirius shivered slightly, sneering at the memory of their pushy Potions Master.

Suddenly, Lily realized what her former headmaster was getting at. He wanted her and Sirius to stage her convincing him to come to some event with her where Slughorn was the host or a guest, somewhere she could allow Sirius to be collected. Sirius would have to play along, as he had been doing at any number of society events, and then Lily had to use that capital, somehow, to get the true memory.

She raised her eyebrows at Sirius who just shrugged. His mind was clearly still on his brother, on the mess he had to deal with in the other part of his life, the locket he had to deliver to Dumbledore, the lies he had to tell his parents. And when she did this, she couldn't tell James anything. That would be difficult, but she could see how important it was to know how many Horcruxes they were dealing with. They couldn't end this without them.

"Alright," she said, forcing a smile. "I'll write Sirius when I've got a date figured out that works, and I'll use my best coaxing in the letter to be convincing."

"It'll have to fit into my stupid social calendar," Sirius said, rubbing his eyes. "You know, funerals, Death Eater meetings, luncheons, drinks parties, charity functions. Oh, and don't forget the stupid Ministry Balls."

Lily sat up, grinning.

"That's it," she said happily. "Charity functions."

Sirius raised an eyebrow.

"I don't follow."

"Give me a charity thing I could still give enough to qualify for. I'll say I want to bring a date, but James was too ill, so would Slughorn come with me, please? And then I'll use the opportunity to playact, get you to agree to go to some of his events, and then I'll work him after the function for the memory. He'll be a bit buttered up, in fine form, maybe I'll even give him some crystalized pineapple or something."

Dumbledore agreed that this seemed like a good idea, and Sirius promised to pass along details of an event when he figured out one that fit the bill. He made his excuses, although he really needn't have done with all the things he needed to see to, and then he left Lily sitting alone with Dumbledore.

"He's got the weight of the world on his shoulders," she said sadly.

"Indeed. But do not think that the weight is too heavy for him, Lily. Sirius is happier taking on more than he can carry than he would be taking Cara to safety somewhere and hiding until the war is over. He will lose more this way, but he will appreciate every loss. I suspect he would only take the safety for granted."

Lily hummed agreement, but it didn't make her feel any better about Sirius's situation. She only hoped that when they managed to end the war, he could have the freedom to live his own life again. He deserved that much.

/-/

Sirius stumbled into Number 12, Grimmauld Place, not needing to put on a face. He was anguished. The pain of first seeing Regulus sprawled on the sitting room floor had not diminished through the course of his day, and he felt the heaviness of his limbs, the strange lightness of his head and chest, as he was let into the house.

"Sirius!" his mother said, somewhat confused to see him. "I wasn't expecting you. If you're looking for Regulus, I'm afraid I don't know where he is."

"No," Sirius said, choking out the word. "No, I…I have some bad news, Mother. And I don't know how to tell you."

He licked his lips as she took in his battered appearance – he had purposefully dropped by Snape's to tell him the news and do some dueling practice to appear as though he'd just come from a battlefield – and he could feel tears stinging at his eyes. He didn't want to cry, but perhaps his mother would accept the news better if he looked completely broken by it.

In a way, he was. If only he could have come back sooner, kept Regulus from ever joining Voldemort, or taken him away with him when he ran. Perhaps Regulus would still be alive.

But then, perhaps they wouldn't know about the Horcruxes, and Voldemort would still be gaining strength and invincibility unchecked.

"What's wrong?" she asked, nervous. "Is Cara alright?"

"She's fine," he said, letting her help him to the foot of the stairs, where he sat, trembling. After-effect of the Cruciatus Curse. "I assume she's fine. I…. Mother, it's Reg."

"What about him?" she asked.

Her face was strong and brave, but her voice cracked with the question, and he knew she knew, but she would make him say it anyway.

"He's dead, mother. I…. There were people who…." He coughed to cover a tremble in his voice and he looked down at his fingers. "There were too many of them. It's a wonder either of us made it out. I thought he was in front of me." He covered his face with dirty, shaking hands. "Merlin, I thought he was right in front of me."

"His body?" she asked, her voice little more than a squeak.

Sirius shook his head. He'd planned on telling her it exploded, like the story he'd read about Benjy Fenwick, but he didn't want to upset her unduly. She'd make her own assumptions and probably come to that conclusion without him making such a vulgar statement.

"Let me tell your father, Sirius," she said, touching his shoulder. "You should tell Cara. I…. Will you help me with the funeral?"

He nodded numbly, half-listening to her as she talked about the things that were tradition, and how she would probably enlist Narcissa's help as well, but Sirius knew that the icy calm in her voice was a well-practiced mask. She was devastated at losing her favorite son, her only solace being that Sirius had come home. But even worse, she had expected to bury her husband before either of her children. Sirius did not want to begin to imagine how Orion Black would take the news of his son's death.

When he returned to Selwyn Manor, leaving his parents to their grief, Sirius couldn't help wondering how it would have been had he not been forced into returning, had he still been adrift of his family and something happened to Regulus. It almost made him glad to be in the situation he was in. At least they'd been friends again, before the end.

 **A/N: So… sorry for killing Reg? I know y'all are super upset about this, but I couldn't not do it, the direction I have this story headed. Had to be done. I really did spend a long time debating this when I was planning the story, and in the end I couldn't justify saving him.**

 **That being said, there's Lily joining their cause! :D I'm excited about this. She won't get involved deeply, but she does see more of Sirius's struggles, and that helps her understand what's going on a bit better.**

 **ALSO – you guys have blown the weekly review record again! 29 reviews this week, just one away from THREE bonus chapters! Stunning. :D**

 **We're running another promotion this week, so if you review all three stampcard stories (this, Craving Comfort, and MissRoseAlanaHorton's The Dark Lord's Rose) by midnight PST on Friday the 29** **th** **of April, you'll get a bonus stamp! Only one person earned a bonus stamp during the last promotion, but I know you can do better. ;)**

 **FINALLY: I've entered a novel in an Inkitt competition. So go ahead and go on Inkitt and read _The Death of a Billionaire_ by me, Charlotte Blackwood! :D The way I could get it published is if all of YOU go read it and vote for it. It's a murder mystery. Cheers, all.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you imagine Sirius's reuniting with his old professor, Horace Slughorn, will go? And what sort of event might they meet up at?**

 **-C**


	17. In Progress

Albus arrived early. With two items to destroy, there was no time to waste. Alastor would be along when his shift at the Ministry ended, but Albus was lost in thoughts as he looked at the locket and the cup.

One belonging to Slytherin, the other to Hufflepuff. Apart from being a Hogwarts founder, Albus did not know of any interest on Tom's part with the founder of Hufflepuff House. But he remembered distinctly that Tom had considered Hogwarts his home, as an orphan more so than many students. He had appealed once to stay at the school over the summer rather than go back to the orphanage, but Professor Dippet had turned him down. In another year, he may have got his wish, but that had been the year of the attacks on Muggle-borns, and there was no guarantee the school would be open come summer.

He closed his eyes and tried to remember exactly the timing of that request. He thought that it had been the night Albus asked him if he knew anything, the night Myrtle's body was removed from the castle for her parents to bury. The night Hagrid was turned over.

Framed. The night Tom framed Hagrid.

Even as a child, Tom had a habit of using those who were weaker than him. Albus had recently reviewed his memories of his first meeting with Tom, and his discussions with Mrs. Cole, the woman who had introduced Albus at the orphanage.

The collecting of trophies was significant, he knew. Trophies of his misdeeds, of his power. If the cup was for killing the woman, the diary from the death of Myrtle, what was the locket? It wasn't the death that led to the soul, he felt that didn't matter, but there was a victory or a power play in it, one that was escaping Albus.

The place that Tom had hurt the other orphans, however, a cave at the seaside…. From what Sirius had told him about Regulus's retrieval of the locket, it was almost certainly the same place. There was something nearly sentimental in Tom, something that enjoyed reminders of his victories, even his earliest ones.

Oh, there was something significant, but it was just at the edges of his mind, just where he could not find it.

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Seeing through the black veil was difficult for Cara, but she held her head up high as she slipped her arm into Sirius's. The story, the official story, was not true, but she had not asked what really happened to Regulus and she didn't have the heart to ask Sirius what had happened. He was so fragile ever since telling her he'd lost his brother.

The funeral required no body and was quick to put together. The Black family had been holding their breath for months, waiting for Orion Black to die, and they were able to use many of the plans from that upcoming funeral for Regulus's memorial. At Narcissa's request, they held the funeral on the grounds of Malfoy Manor, and she greeted Sirius and Cara with a kiss to Cara's cheek through their veils and allowing Sirius to kiss her hand.

"Welcome," Narcissa said darkly. "You are up front, with your mother."

Orion Black was too ill for the funeral, although he had wanted to go. Cara worried that any day the man would give up the will to continue, that he would finally succumb at the heartbreak of losing his son. Cara couldn't fathom the pain of losing a child, at any age, and felt quite unready to be a parent.

She sat beside Sirius and sat tall, straight, with eyes downcast as she was supposed to do, but her mind was elsewhere, in the bedroom of Orion Black as he begged her to tell him that Sirius was happy.

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The former Order headquarters could only take so many bouts of Fiendfyre before it would have to be condemned, but Albus hoped it would prove to be enough for their needs. He allowed Alastor to pour them both a small glass of firewhiskey as they looked at the destroyed locket and cup.

"Quite a collection of objects," Alastor said after downing his drink in one. "How many more?"

"I am not yet certain," Albus said. "It may take some time to find them. We have been lucky thus far. These items have fallen into my lap, so to speak. The others, however many there are, will take great consideration to discover."

Alastor pointed out that Dark Magic always left traces, especially as strong as this was, and to those sensitive to such traces – such as Albus and Alastor – they could be found with no great exertion.

But Albus did not bother to remind his old friend that this was only true if one already knew the general place to look. In order to find other Horcruxes, Albus would need to know where to look, where there would be significance to Tom Riddle at the time when he hid the items. These later ones, they were placed in the oldest vaults of Gringotts, the vaults he envied for what they represented – and the locket, which was placed at the site of his first grand act of terror. Albus expected that where he looked would depend greatly on what he was looking for.

"Slytherin and Hufflepuff," he muttered to himself.

Would Tom bother with something from Gryffindor? If he were to leave any of them out, it would be that House, the one who set himself up as a kind of adversary to Salazar Slytherin. But Ravenclaw? Could Tom have found something once belonging to Rowena Ravenclaw, and if so, where would he possibly?

"I will return to Hogwarts," Albus said, not finishing his drink, but instead passing it to Alastor, who finished it for him. "Hopefully, the next time we do this, it will be the last."

"We can only hope," Alastor said darkly.

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Lily walked through the very familiar halls of Hogwarts and felt a shiver down her spine. How the world had changed since her last days here as a student! When she arrived, eleven years old and so in awe of everything, she couldn't have imagined where the future was about to take her. She'd thought James and Sirius so rude, and she'd been attached to Severus.

The thought of Severus made her frown slightly. She hadn't thought of him for some time now.

Her small, pale hand knocked on the door to the office that had hosted so many fancy events for prize students. James and Sirius had always thought the whole thing rather stupid. They were used to being important, but Lily had been so flattered to be invited. It didn't take her long to realize that many of the students were even more obnoxious than either of the boys she had so harshly judged on the very first train ride, but she understood the purpose of networking. More than that, her pride wouldn't let her drop the matter and admit to James and Sirius that it was as awful as they expected.

"Enter," said the jovial voice of her former professor, and Lily let herself into the office, looking around at the ingredients, pickled and dried on shelves, jarred and bottled. She missed brewing things that weren't just for healing the injuries of war. They had made so many interesting things at school.

Professor Slughorn looked up and his eyes widened, his whole face brightening at the sight of her.

"Merlin's beard, it's Lily Evans!" he said, hopping to his feet and hurrying to greet her.

"Potter, now, sir," she said, smiling and kissing his cheek as he embraced her. "I'm sorry you didn't have an invite, but we did keep it very small, very quiet."

"No, no, no, not at all, my dear," he said, gesturing for her to sit, which she did. He offered her some mead, but she declined, watching him pour himself a glass anyway. "What brings you to see me?"

"Well, it's silly, really," she said, smiling and shrugging, "but I thought perhaps you might be interested, if you aren't too busy." He waved her on eagerly. "Well, you know the ceremony next month, for the awarding of the Orders of Merlin for the year?"

"Yes, Newt Scamander is up for one, isn't he?" Slughorn said eagerly. "The things that man discovered in his day, let me tell you!"

"Yes, sir. I was most eager to go for that very reason. I've always been interested in Magizoology, you know."

"Have you, really?"

No, in truth, Lily had very little interest in Magizoology beyond finding ways to help Remus and finding ingredients for potions, but she knew enough about it to feed the lie.

"Yes, and you know, Sirius Black is a very good friend of James and I, and he helped me make a contribution to the right people, you know, so I got seats for the ceremony."

"Good for you," Slughorn said, his eyebrows raising as he gave her a conspiratorial smile. "Not easy to get, those seats. So many reserved for the pureblood elite, you know. Will Mr. Black be there? I don't think I've had the pleasure of meeting his mysterious young wife."

Oh, Dumbledore would be so pleased, this was going so well, she thought, smiling at him. As it happened, Sirius and Cara were going to be at her table, arranged by Sirius, of course.

"I do believe they will be there, sir," Lily said, folding her hands and leaning forward. "You see, my trouble is that I was hoping that James would be able to go with me, but as it happens he has to be abroad at that time, unavoidable business, you know."

Order business, but Slughorn didn't need to know that. He nodded sympathetically, said something stupid about how difficult it could be for important men to make room in their schedules, and then Lily asked if he would perhaps consider going with her as her plus one.

"Me?" he said, smiling slightly. "Well, I…. I certainly would like to go, my dear. I shouldn't think... No, no, I will certainly be able to be there! You know, it will be good to see some old students again, and I expect Newt would remember me. Yes, I would be delighted, absolutely delighted!"

Lily left the castle feeling relief, satisfaction, and only a hint of annoyance at the man's ridiculous pontificating. He did mean well, she reminded herself, and she went home to make a note to Dumbledore that things were in motion.

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Albus paced his study, deep in thought. There was something about the locket, something about the connection of it to Tom that was nagging at him. The locket had come to Borgin and Burkes from a woman, desperate for money, selling off her treasures to have a bit to stay alive on. But where would the young woman have such an heirloom but for being an heir of Slytherin?

And that was the story on the Chamber of Secrets, which Albus now had no doubts about Tom having opened. Which meant, according to the legend, that Tom Riddle was the heir of Slytherin.

The father's name was a Muggle name, which Albus had known all along. He was named for his mother father, but his middle name, Marvolo….

Albus went to his bookshelf and ran his finger across the books in the "n" range until he found a copy of _Nature's Nobility_. He settled in with the collection of family trees from the 28 most notable families in the wizarding world, and began to search for something tickling the back of his memory.

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Sirius paced the floor of the sitting room, the same floor that he'd burned Regulus's body on.

"You've already passed it on, then?" Snape said, not touching the tea Kreacher had placed before him.

"Yes," Narcissa said softly. "Yes, I expect it's been destroyed by now. Do we know how many there are?"

Sirius paused by the fireplace, putting his hand on the mantle, feeling a shiver down his spine.

"Not yet," he said. "But I expect we'll know in about a month. Let's just say that this, like so many things in this damn world, hinges on bribing Horace Slughorn."

Snape snorted and Narcissa harrumphed, but Cara didn't get the joke. Cara didn't understand yet the life she'd stepped into, and how it had suddenly changed. She didn't know the man Horace Slughorn was, and how he would try to use her. She didn't realize that Regulus's death meant that they would have to move in to Grimmauld Place, to make their home there instead of Selwyn Manor. Granted, it would be good to be around in his father's last days, but to live in that awful place was the last thing Sirius wanted to do with his life. He certainly didn't wish the place on Cara.

Still, now that he was in his mother's good graces, and since his mother so adored Cara, perhaps something could be done about the place, when his father passed.

"So what do we do now?" Cara asked in small voice. "And how do we make up for losing Regulus?"

"We continue as we've done," Narcissa said stiffly. "Until we know what we're looking for and where to look for it, we really can't do any looking, can we? We must keep our eyes and ears open, go on with our lives, and wait."

"Yes," Sirius said, sitting down with the others at the table. "That's exactly what we're going to do. Snape, Cara and I will be moving in here as soon as possible. Consider yourself a welcome guest whenever you need to drop in. It'll be safe to run operations here. Apart from us, no one ever comes round, and I won't be opening it to visitors."

Cara looked at him strangely when he said they were moving, but she didn't argue, especially when Narcissa didn't show any negative signs to the proposition.

"What will your mother think?" Snape said, his lips twitching with amusement. "No, no, don't answer. I doubt she'll hear my surname, will she? Fine by me. Whatever you do with this bloody property is your own business, and it's certainly as good a place as any."

Sirius took a deep breath to calm himself, not that he could really argue. The place was ghastly. They agreed to meet again when they got word from Dumbledore and not before, to avoid suspicion, and Severus and Narcissa left soon after.

/-/

Albus set the book aside and tapped a goblet to fill it with cool water. It took several hours, but he'd found what he was looking for, the names of a line now died out in the male line, died out in the pureblood line entirely as a matter of fact. But although it was not in the book, it did not take too much for Albus to realize that young woman, now deceased, by the name of Merope Gaunt had a child.

Not too much to realize because she'd given that child her father's name as a middle name: Marvolo. Not a common name in any circles. And from what he had found from a friend who checked Muggle records, a family by the name of Riddle with a son named Tom had lived very near the last known address of the Gaunts.

And now, they were all dead, since toward the end of Tom Riddle, Jr.'s time at Hogwarts.

The alarming thing Albus was finding was that the idea of family heirlooms was opening up a larger number of prospective Horcruxes than Albus had initially realized. The locket was not only a Slytherin family heirloom, but almost certainly a Gaunt family heirloom as well, pawned by Merope Gaunt whilst pregnant with Tom, sometime before her death.

He would have to do some travelling, but first he had to trace down what all of Tom's movements were after leaving the country with the cup and the locket, and before he came back to inquire about the post at Hogwarts for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position when Professor Merrythought retired.

There was a lot of information to gather, but he had time before Lily was being accompanied by Horace to the Order of Merlin ceremony. He wanted to have an idea of where to look before then, just in case he found out the number was higher than he imagined.

Albus took a long drink of water and he thought about the people he needed to speak to, the places he needed to visit. He would start with the orphanage, the very beginning of Tom's life, and he would work his way forward from there, go over everything he'd already gone over again if he had to. No stones could be left unturned, but there was so much to go through, decades of a life with so many mysteries, so many obfuscations. And Tom might be arrogant, but he wasn't stupid.

When Albus finished the water and set aside the goblet, he put the book back on the shelf and lamented silently for a moment that he hadn't had the opportunity to go to the funeral of Regulus Black. Everything in Sirius's life was about to change again, and Albus felt that he was asking too much of the young man all the time. And soon, very soon, he might have to ask still more of him.

Because when all was said and done, when all the Horcruxes were indeed gone, something would have to be done about Voldemort himself, and that couldn't be done by just anyone. It had to be someone who could get close enough without arousing suspicion, and that wasn't Albus. He just hoped it would still be a little bit of time before having to break that news. The weight was already heavy on Sirius's shoulders, and the worst was yet to come.

 **A/N: Everybody say thank you to reviewer** _ **gr8rockstarrox**_ **, whose review earned this lovely BONUS CHAPTER.**

 **If you're waiting for the Craving Comfort update, I'll probably get it up tonight. I meant to do it yesterday, but I had a massive portfolio due, and when that was done I was totally knackered.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you think life in Grimmauld Place will be when the newlyweds move in?**

 **-C**


	18. Machinations and Musings

Sirius adjusted his robes and tried to loosen his collar without losing propriety. It wasn't working. He hated these events, and it felt as though all he did lately was go to these stupid events, dressing up and trying not to drink so much that he forgot himself. The events were never bearable without alcohol.

He pressed his forehead to the bathroom door and said, "Cat, I'm ready when you're ready. How long?"

She answered that she was very nearly done, but unlike with girls he'd known in school, when Cara said that she was nearly done, she really meant it.

Several minutes later, Cara came out in the new dress robes his mother had paid for, especially for this event. Sirius had been worried that anything his mother chose would be ghastly, but perhaps someone else had selected the robes in question.

The robes were floor-length, pale blue, and seeming to float around her like cloud. The neckline was tasteful, not plunging by any means, but it did dip teasingly below the collarbone to show enough skin to make Sirius's heart race and his mouth water. He wondered whether he should perhaps cancel and show her how much he appreciated the robes by taking them off her. If it were any night but the one he was supposed to do Lily the supposed favor of allowing himself to be collected by Horace Slughorn, he might have seriously considered it.

"You look perfect," he said, kissing her jaw gently. "We have to get going, darling, or we'll be late."

Cara slipped her arm into his with practiced ease and Sirius swore to himself that when this was all over they would go away together until they felt like normal people again, and they'd never go back to this.

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The orphanage no longer existed, but Albus went by the building complex regardless. He wanted to feel if Tom had hidden something there, perhaps in the foundations. The street itself was unfamiliar, although Albus knew it was the right one. So much had changed since Tom was eleven years old, and not just Tom himself. The world was a different place. England was a very different place. In just a few short decades, whole cities had become unrecognizable. Much of that was down to wars in both wizarding and Muggle worlds. Some of it was down to human foolishness.

He looked up at the building – offices, he gathered – where the orphanage used to stand. He wondered what happened now to the children around here who were orphaned. Of course, he had not been terrible impressed with the facilities of the place to begin with, nor the staff. Not that Tom could have been an easy child to manage, but Albus had never believed that children should be kept like zoo animals.

Albus wasn't particularly fond of zoo animals being kept as zoo animals, come to that.

No, the building was just an ordinary building, in an ordinary part of ordinary Muggle London, with no hints that it had ever held a very sad orphanage with a very lonely boy who would become a great Dark wizard. No hints that Dark magic had ever touched the place. If Tom experimented with Horcruxes in his summers off, he hadn't done it here. Albus looked up at the building and was surprised to feel a young woman touch his arm.

"Excuse me, sir," she said kindly. "Are you looking for something?"

He smiled at her, taking in her knit dress and blazer jacket, her carefully cropped and groomed hair, her purse which matched her shoes and nails and lips and belt. This was her world, and he stuck out like a sore thumb in it. For the briefest of moments, he wanted to tell her that she was safe, that the evil he was seeking was not here, but the words would give her no comfort. She wasn't thinking of good and evil as she went to work for the day.

"No, my dear. I just wanted to see what had become of the old orphanage. You see that building there? Many years ago, an orphanage used to be there. I suppose this building is much more attractive and useful."

She nodded, her eyebrows tense with puzzlement, but she said she supposed it must be before wishing him a good day and hurrying off to a nearby office building, her heels clicking rhythmically on the pavement.

Albus turned away from the office buildings and walked away from the neighborhood for the last time.

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On Horace Slughorn's arm, Lily Potter arrived at the Ministry as other couples were arriving. She saw Sirius's cousin, Narcissa, on her husband's arm. There was the younger Lestrange brother with a woman Lily didn't know, a woman who had the nose indicative of the Greengrass family. Of course, with purebloods, that meant very little. The Greengrass nose was probably a trait available in most of the most noble lines, waiting to be selected by the genetic lottery.

"Potter plus one," Lily said to the young man taking names at the door.

He looked at the list, put a little mark by her surname and said, "Your table is in the front, slightly left of center as you enter the door, Madam Potter."

Lily thanked him and smiled at Professor Slughorn, leading him into the room. Sirius was already inside, sitting at their table, looking like he was trying to hide his amusement. This seemed odd for Sirius at an event like this, but then Lily recognized the couple who would be sharing their table: Xenophilius and Pandora Lovegood. Potentially the most unconventional couple in the whole of the wizarding world, famous for their bizarre eccentricities and potentially unhinged theories.

Well, they would have a laugh, anyway.

"Here we are," Lily said, smiling as she saw the name cards laid out for them, herself beside Sirius, Cara looking rather bewildered between Sirius and Xeno. He and his wife must not be regulars at these events, Lily realized. "Oh, Sirius! Cate! What a pleasure!"

"Lily," Sirius said, smiling at her with a restrained warmth. He couldn't be too friendly to a Muggle-born in public, but he wasn't allowed to behave suspiciously to James's wife, either. She appreciated now the very thin line he had to dance on. "Professor. What a surprise."

He sounded more bored than surprised, but if Slughorn noticed, he made no sign of it. He took his seat between Lily and Pandora and shook Sirius's hand across Lily, who sat stiffly back in her chair to allow the greeting to take place unhindered.

"Sirius, m'boy! And your lovely young wife, I see," Slughorn said eagerly, eyeing the pair of them like they were exotic fruits to be gobbled up. "I'm afraid I did not quite catch your name, my dear."

Cara flushed slightly at being directly mentioned, and Sirius took her hand right on top of the table, which was a surprisingly forward gesture in public for pureblood society.

"This is my wife, Cara Black, née Selwyn."

Slughorn's eyes lit up at this, and Lily knew he must recognize her parentage, if not by looking at her than from hearing the stories that must have circulated in the earliest years of her youth.

"Exquisite," Slughorn said, making for a moment as though he would want to kiss her hand before seeming to realize that there was a large, circular table between them, and that any attempt to even touch her would upset the water goblets. "Such a pity you were unable to grace Hogwarts' halls, Madam Black."

Cara smiled demurely, but her hand stiffened in Sirius's. Even with all the social interaction she'd had since being taken back by her family, she still seemed uncomfortable with such discussion and niceties.

"Xeno," Lily said brightly, addressing the silent couple, buttering rolls left on the table for the pre-dinner enjoyment of early arrivers. "Pandora. I didn't know you came to such events."

If she had known, she might have gone to a few, just to see more of them.

"Oh, we don't," Pandora said dreamily. "Only we are very interested to hear Newt Scamander speak. It's a shame there won't be time for questions. I wanted to ask him about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack."

Lily hummed politely. She treated the pair delicately, like one handles the question of Father Christmas with children of a certain age who might have skeptical friends calling their faith in the jolly old man into question. Regardless of what she believed of their theories, she couldn't really disprove them, and it was safer to support their faith quietly than try to reason through it.

Cara's brow wrinkled in a question as she turned to Sirius, who just smiled tightly, holding in his smirk by a thread, and he shook his head almost imperceptibly to tell her not to ask. No doubt they would have a good laugh later one as he explained the Lovegoods to her.

"A roll, professor?" Lily asked, getting back onto track for the evening.

She would try to enjoy herself, but first and foremost, she had to accomplish her task. They may not get another chance.

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Severus sat at his cauldron, stirring the complicated pattern without hardly thinking about what he was doing. If he was careful not to knock his stirrer against the sides of the cauldron, he was practically invisible to the people in the next room: Bellatrix and Barty. Severus breathed softly, listening carefully and wondering where Bellatrix's husband was.

"It will be done," Barty said softly, his voice rapturous.

There was no question of Bella's unfaithfulness. Severus was fairly certain that she was a mainly asexual sort of being. She got her kicks from torture and gore, from power in viciousness. However, she had not been authorized to give anyone missions, and here she was, having a quiet conversation in corners with Barty Crouch, instructing him to keep an eye on Sirius Black, to charm Cara Black, and to report back to her.

It seemed Bellatrix was suspicious of her cousin, and still saw his weakness as his wife. Severus felt irked at her use of the poor girl as though she were merely a tool for Bellatrix's purposes. If Severus had ever known someone whose life was out of their own control, it was Cara Black.

Well, he thought, pouring in a few drops of salamander blood, Barty Crouch would find his work cut out for him, indeed.

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Cara did not have to think about eating politely. The manners, she found, were natural to her, something she must have been carefully taught as a child, but perhaps also things completely in line with her innate character. Sirius had to think about it, she knew, getting the right amount of food on his fork and no more. On his own he ate like something of a beast, but in public he put on a show of grace and class, and although he did so with apparent ease, it was a constant struggle for him.

"So, Professor Slughorn," Cara said, attempting to flatter the man she knew Sirius was supposed to ingratiate himself to. "What do you teach?"

"Potions, m'dear," Slughorn said cheerfully. He had been watching her eat, evidently thrilled with her manners, which Cara found slightly unnerving. Still, Sirius had assured that for all his quirks, Horace Slughorn was essentially harmless. "Do you brew?"

"No, not really," she said, touching Sirius's hand gently before reaching for her water. "There was never a need to teach me, I suppose. I expect I would be hopeless."

"Oh, not at all, not at all," Slughorn said eagerly, leaning forward slightly. "The key to basic potions, m'dear, is not in magical ability at all. It is in precise measurements, the ability to follow directions, and smoothness of movement. Gracefulness, if you will."

Well, his interest in her manners seemed more clear now, and she smiled politely, glancing at Sirius whose jaw had twitched. Perhaps Potions had been a sore point for him in school.

"Of course," Lily said, "there's a great deal more to advanced potions. Magical ability can be a factor there, but more importantly creativity, flexibility, patience."

There it was, the reasons Sirius had not been a great potioneer. Flexibility and patience? Definitely not.

"I think creativity is the most important thing in magic," Pandora Lovegood said dreamily, stirring her water with a spoon.

Cara wasn't quite sure what to make of the Lovegoods, but Sirius seemed to enjoy them, and Lily showed them genuine kindness, not the polite kindness she sometimes gave those she had to deal with. Cara thought they were very nice people, if a bit unusual, and from what she could tease out of their sometimes unintelligible remarks, Cara thought that they might even be quietly brilliant.

"And persistence," Sirius said, smirking to himself, a faraway look in his eyes like he was recalling an especially fond memory. "Can't get any better with creative ideas if you don't keep at it, right, Xeno?"

Xenophilius agreed eagerly, and seemed about to charge into some story that Cara would likely have enjoyed hearing – Xenophilius had already told three very interesting, if confusing, stories – but Slughorn cut across him and turned to Sirius.

"What have you been filling your days with, then, Sirius?" he said.

Cara focused on her food so that she didn't give anything away with her expressions. She doubted very much that Horace Slughorn knew or would approve of Sirius being a Death Eater, and after the very awkward way he had given his condolences about Regulus's untimely death, Cara felt there was very little to say about how Sirius filled his days.

"Oh, you know how pureblood society is," Sirius said, glancing around the room. "Always some bloody function."

"Sirius," Lily said, chiding him with her lips quirked in amusement. Slughorn didn't seem to mind the language.

"We're all amongst friends here, Lily," Sirius said, glancing around. "These things are dreadfully boring, present company excepted, naturally. This is the best time I've had in ages."

"How very flattering," Slughorn said happily. "But surely you must have some hobbies. Legal matters, perhaps? Investment? A clever man like you, research perhaps?"

Sirius smiled. He was not a man who could be or even appear humble, so even his attempt at humility was the very knowledge of his self-importance. With a tap of his fork on his plate, Sirius said, "Oh, well, investment certainly. I've toyed with the idea of investing in a Quidditch team, actually. But the question would always be whether James could approve of my choice, and I can't say that backing the Falcons is really the smartest financial move I can make. Medical research, though, things that always need money, education. And lately I have been spending more time at home. My father is very ill, you see, and we know it's only a matter of months, perhaps weeks or days, before he passes."

"Oh, I'm very sorry to hear that," Slughorn said. "Orion was a very talented wizard, you know. In many ways, you take after him. Did you know he was a dueling champion in his time at school?"

Sirius very clearly hadn't known, and Cara, glanced at her husband as Slughorn told him stories about his dying father.

Perhaps Lily was actually doing Sirius something of a favor as well, Cara thought. She would check in on Orion Black before bed that night, and tell him all about the banquet. He seemed to enjoy the sound of her voice, and sometimes, when she told him about Sirius, he would smile to himself as though smiling in his sleep at a particularly pleasant dream.

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Hogwarts was quiet on Sunday evenings. Many students were trying to fit a week's worth of work into a single evening, and Albus sat in his office, looking out over the grounds, reviewing what he knew about Tom Riddle.

During classes tomorrow, Albus would visit a few old friends who were once in charge of enforcing the International Statue of Secrecy. With the kind of magic, the kind of people as the Gaunts and Tom Riddle in a Muggle village, there would have been potentially many instances of breaking the statute. If Albus recalled correctly, Morfin Gaunt, the son of Marvolo, had been imprisoned for just such an offense, but Albus could not recall the details of the case.

The trick would be telling if a Horcrux was present, even given the almost certainly Dark uses of magic by the Gaunts, who were by all accounts even more unhinged than some of the more unsavory characters of the Black family.

But from there?

It was a fact that after the death of Hepzibah Smith, Tom Riddle was not in England, or anywhere else in the United Kingdom. It was unlikely that he had gone anywhere in Western Europe, and whispers were that he had been somewhere in the forests of Eastern Europe, but which forests? And why would he go there?

The question could perhaps be answered if Albus knew what had taken him there, what Riddle was hoping to complete. There was the question of Gaunt family heirlooms, but Albus would have to do a great deal more research to know what other heirlooms there were in the family, and where those heirlooms would have ended up throughout the years. There was also the possibility of items belonging to the Founders. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw were the only two unaccounted for, and that was a bit of a puzzle to Albus.

The only known heirlooms belonging to Gryffindor were the Sorting Hat and the sword of Gryffindor, the hat very certainly not a Horcrux, and the sword only accessible by a Gryffindor in need. That didn't seem to be available to Tom, at any rate.

The only heirloom known to belong to Rowena Ravenclaw that Albus could think of was the diadem that had enhanced her wisdom, but according to the vague legend surrounding the piece, it had vanished centuries ago. It had been since theorized that no such diadem ever existed, although Albus supposed that something of the sort had been real. Legends rarely sprang from nowhere.

There were so many unanswered questions, and the more Albus learned, the wider the net needed to be cast. He only hoped that Lily's news would be good news, when she got the memory from Horace.

 **A/N: Want part two of our evening with Horace Slughorn? Review, review, review! We dropped off a bit this week, which is why there was only one bonus chapter!**

 **So, Bella's plotting against Sirius and Cara, Severus is plotting, Albus is hunting Horcruxes, and the Lovegoods make good dinner guests. What will our lovely characters do next? ;)**

 **Review Prompt: If you had to buy a present for Xeno Lovegood, what would you choose?**

 **-C**


	19. The Weak Points

As soon as the awards were given and the speeches concluded, mingling with other tables commenced. Sirius left his wife with Lily and the Lovegoods. Perhaps he should have brought her to his cousin, who was two tables over with her husband and Cara's half-brother, but Sirius felt more comfortable with the first group, and he knew Cara would enjoy herself better with some time with Lily. He stood, walking out to the adjoining room, pulling out a cigarette, not at all surprised to find Horace Slughorn following him.

"A nasty habit, m'boy," Slughorn said, waggling his finger disapprovingly, but his eyes and face the smiling picture of avuncular indulgence.

Sirius smirked as he watched his first puff of smoke evaporate into the air. He liked looking at the edges of smoke, the wisps melting into nothingness and exposing the inner part of the cloud to the same fate. There was something calming, cyclical in it, and he could almost focus his thoughts and stresses on those wisps and feel them melt away.

"You know how silly those people in there are, professor?" he said, before taking another drag of his cigarette and letting it out. "Half those men smoke cigars or pipes. I could even name you half a dozen off the top of my head who do illicit drugs of magical and Muggle nature. They'll even smoke cigars at parties and call themselves sophisticated for it. How is this," he said, holding up his little cigarette, "any worse than a cigar? It's smaller. It's more portable. It doesn't take as long to finish. It's probably better for you. And women can smoke them just as easily as men. You know what makes it unsavory to them? It's an equalizer. Muggles of all classes use them. They were brought into our world by Muggle-borns and rebellious teenagers. But not so terribly long ago, so were cigars."

Sirius took another drag of his cigarette and enjoyed the considering look on his former professor's face. He could see that Horace Slughorn had never really thought about what kind of man Sirius was. When Sirius was in school he'd been disinterested in Slughorn and Potions and power, everything Slughorn held dear. About the only thing the two had in common was a penchant for fine food, drink, and sweets.

"I suppose that's very true," Slughorn said after several long moments of consideration. "You are quite a puzzle, Sirius."

"Am I?" he said dryly. "I would have thought I was easy to figure out. I'm a simple man, professor. I believe what I believe, and I do what I have to do."

Slughorn didn't seem to know what to make of that statement, but he seemed to decide it must mean that Sirius did what was expected of him as a pureblood heir. If only he knew the half of it.

"I think it would be very beneficial," Slughorn said, "very useful, I mean, for some of my prize students to meet with you. I was thinking of hosting a little get-together. Nothing grand or fancy, of course. Just something casual, a dinner. Semi-formal, perhaps. I would be delighted if you would join us."

Sirius wished he could say no. He didn't want to spend time in that awful Slug Club, even as the guest of honor. He didn't want questions from the sniveling children who wanted to know the best way to get the most power. With everything else Sirius had to juggle, it just seemed asinine.

"I would find it…interesting," Sirius said, forcing a smirk to his lips. It was the best word he could think of that wouldn't put Slughorn on his guard. Once Lily had the memory, Sirius could do and say whatever he liked to the man, but until then, Sirius had to be on his best behavior.

"Oh, how delightful!" Slughorn said eagerly. "Oh, I mustn't abandon Mrs. Potter. So strange thinking of her as that, isn't it? Will you be returning?"

Sirius said he would shortly, and he didn't bother watching Slughorn return to the banquet hall as he took a few long drags of his cigarette. He couldn't think of anyone particularly horrible in the years directly behind him at school. Perhaps there would even be someone interesting.

He put out the cigarette, tossed it in a nearby planter, and returned to the so-called party.

/-/

Andromeda poured tea for herself and her husband. Nymphadora had just been put down for bed, but there were no guarantees she was actually sleeping. Their daughter was very fond of pretending to be asleep and eavesdropping.

"Never thought we'd have to speak code in our own home," Ted teased.

He took it so lightly, the work she was doing for her sister, her cousins, for Dumbledore. He thought it was all great fun, like the sneaking around they did before eloping. At least, he did until Regulus's death was announced in the papers.

Now they sat across the kitchen table from each other solemnly, not speaking. It had been a bit of time since the delivery of the items to Dumbledore, and no news of further items. Just that the two items had been destroyed. Narcissa was careful not to visit too often, and Andromeda couldn't even risk going to Regulus's funeral.

"They forgave Sirius," Ted said softly as Andromeda sipped her tea. "Why shouldn't they forgive you?"

She looked at his honest, friendly face, his smiling eyes that had grown weary with time and stress and love. To him, even now, life was so simple. There were good people and bad people. There was love and there was anger. There was the right thing and the wrong thing, and nearly all things could be forgiven for love. Naïve wasn't the right word, but simple perhaps. Andromeda had fallen in love with that simplicity, that honesty, that loyal and unwavering openness. She'd never felt so secure before Ted.

But he just didn't understand where she came from. He never could, because he could not grasp the complexities she lived in, the degrees of shadow, the carefully chosen words, the whispers, the masks.

"Sirius, for all his faults, did what was expected of him in the end," she said softly. "He didn't marry a Muggle or a Muggle-born, or even a Half-blood. His wife may be a weak witch and a bastard child, but she's got exquisitely pure blood. He followed the path laid out for him and he's fulfilling those obligations, his own views be damned. It doesn't matter why, just that he did it. Even if I left you, Ted, even if I repented, it would never really be the same. Because I couldn't just leave you. I'd have to divorce you, leave our daughter with you, and never see you again. I would need to either remarry, and certainly below myself at this point, or rely on the charity of one of my family. Sirius or Narcissa might give it, but it would damage Sirius's reputation further, which is dangerous, and I doubt Lucius Malfoy would be as kind as Cissy."

He nodded as if he understood, but he didn't. And Andromeda didn't really mind. As far as she was concerned, the best thing about Ted was that he couldn't comprehend her family politics.

/-/

Lily felt jittery as she left with Professor Slughorn, who was in such a good mood that he graciously offered to escort her back to Godric's Hollow. He said that it had been quite some time since he'd last visited the village, and he was eager to see if it looked the same as he remembered.

"I noticed you had a chat with Sirius," Lily said as they walked the high street of Godric's Hollow, toward the church. "I hope it was pleasant."

"Pleasant and productive, my dear," he said eagerly. "Do you know, he has agreed to be a guest at my next Slug Club gathering?"

"Has he really?" she said, smiling a bit to herself and hoping he at least tried to behave. She definitely had to get the memory before that event or she'd be doomed. "I'm just up there at the cross street, professor. Would you like to come in, perhaps, have a cup of tea or perhaps a nightcap?"

She'd picked up a bottle of his favorite mead in preparation, knowing he'd never turn down a drink with a favorite. He eagerly accepted, and she let him in to the cottage, locking the door and wondering if Remus and James were enjoying their night out.

"I've got oak-matured mead," she said, "and firewhiskey, and I think there's a bottle of red wine somewhere. What would you like?"

"Oh, the mead, if you'll part with a glass," he said, sitting down at the kitchen table, his eyes grazing the room for signs of opulence. "I see you have opted for the simple life, Mrs. Potter."

She smiled to herself as she poured with her back to him. Just a dash of Vertiserum in his cup, and just a dash of Liquid Luck in her own. She'd taken all month brewing them to perfection and having Professor Dumbledore check her work to be certain. Too much would be dangerous, of either thing, and she couldn't afford to mess this up. Too many lives at stake.

"James and I like to live low-key, yes," she said. She downed her firewhiskey in one before pouring herself another glass to savor. She really hated firewhiskey, but she couldn't gracefully down either of the other drinks in one. "His splurging is his broomsticks, and mine is rare potions ingredients."

"I saw a motorbike," Slughorn said after several healthy sips of his own drink. "Was that James's? Doesn't seem the type of thing he would have done."

"No," Lily said with a laugh. "No, that's Sirius's. He really can't keep that sort of thing in his current life, you know, but he couldn't stand selling it, so we're holding onto it for him. When his mother passes, I expect, he'll take it back."

"Sirius is quite a funny fellow," Slughorn said thoughtfully. "Very different from the others at the event. His wife is lovely, though."

Lily shrugged and said, "Sirius is dancing a thin line, you see. He's been gathering information for Dumbledore, and it's a hard thing, risking his life every day to fight Voldemort."

"Don't say his name!" Slughorn hissed, eyes wide. He looked around like the man himself would descend upon them at any moment.

"Oh, professor," she said, smiling. "I'm not afraid of the name. No, it's Sirius I worry about. He's not so afraid for his own life, but he does worry what will happen to his wife if he should be discovered."

She didn't feel bad telling him this. Sirius was supposed to have the Order thinking that he was only friendly with the purebloods to protect Cara and feed Dumbledore information, and it suited her purposes for Slughorn to see the sacrifices others were making for the right thing.

"Did you know Regulus had joined him?" she asked in a hushed voice. "He tried to leave, but Voldemort wouldn't let him. Killed him. That could be Sirius. And his mother would hold the funeral, and I wouldn't be allowed to go, Muggle-born, you know."

"How terrible," Slughorn said uncomfortably.

"We're all doing our part," Lily said. "I wish I could do more, but I don't have any way of getting information, you know. So I fight. And I heal. And then I fight some more. Sirius saved my life, you know. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be sitting here talking over a drink."

Slughorn looked even more uncomfortable. Lily decided to press her advantage.

"You would have taught him at school, wouldn't you, professor? Was he in the Slug Club? Did you know anything interesting about him?"

She looked at him as he seemed to fight the effects of the Veritaserum, but in his fight he took more drinks, which only intensified his need to tell her the truth. Lily waited breathlessly for him to give in.

Finally, he put down his drink and he said, "He was one of my students, and he was one of my best students. I had him in the Slug Club and I thought he would be Minister of Magic one day. But he asked me about Horcruxes, you know, and I didn't know what to say."

Lily blinked, knowing she could master the appearance of innocence if she so desired, and she said, "I don't think I know what that is. Horcruxes?"

Slughorn fiddled uncomfortably, took a few more sips of his laced drink, and then he said, "Do you have a vial, my dear?"

Lily casually got a vial from her drying rack, and a stopper from a nearby drawer. She feigned curiosity as he took a silvery-white memory from his mind by pressing his wand to his temple and pulling it away. She held out the vial and stoppered the memory when he released it.

"There's your information," he said softly. "Perhaps it will spare you a few fights. I…. Give that to Albus. Tell him whatever you will. But promise me, whatever you do, that you won't watch it."

"Why not?" she asked, frowning at the silvery memory.

He looked down at his glass with a face that had melted into despair.

"I have the greatest respect for you, Lily Potter," he said softly. "You have naturally all of the things I have worked my whole life to possess, except a bloodline. And that's not really your fault, is it? I have given very little to the world, really, I should think. I brewed potions, but I never created them. I taught students, but I didn't teach them integrity or morality. I taught them how to feed on their own ambitions. I will be retiring very soon, and I don't know what I will be remembered for when all is said and done, if I am remembered at all. And when it is time to go to the other side, what will I find waiting for me?" He shook his head. "The one thing I want is to know that you, and the handful of others like you, the truly good students that I had the privilege of knowing, will remember me with fondness and respect. And if you see this memory, I am afraid that you will lose any respect you've ever had for me. Promise me."

She felt a heavy pain in her chest at his confessions, and she swore she'd avoid Veritaserum for the rest of her life if this was what it got her. But she had the memory, and she had it with relatively little cost to everyone involved. The least she could do was make a simple promise.

"I won't watch it," she said earnestly, touching his trembling hand. "And you will always have my respect, professor. It doesn't matter what it is you've done. You could never lose it."

Lily offered him another drink, but he said he had papers to grade before the morning and not very many hours left to do it in, so she watched him go, cleaned the glasses, and sent a message to Dumbledore right away.

/-/

Sirius rubbed his eyes and smiled at the sight of Cara stretched out and already asleep on their bed. He ignored his arousal at the sight of her in her nightgown. He would let her sleep.

He poured himself a glass of firewhiskey and crossed to the window, glancing down at the street below and wishing he could hear from Lily, get some news on whether or not they had succeeded. He hoped she'd taken some measures, but there was no telling.

And he had come home to a message, a little slip of paper with handwriting he recognized as that of Snape. Apparently, Sirius and Snape had to talk, and apparently it wasn't something the others had to concern themselves with. Sirius didn't know what it could be about, and he still wondered most of the time if he should trust the man, but he wrote back that he would visit Snape's home in the morning and see what this was all about.

Something about the way Snape delivered the note, he had a feeling that whatever the news was, Sirius would have another dose of complication in his life.

He downed the firewhiskey, slipped into bed with Cara, feeling the way she unconsciously shifted deeper into his arms. It was worth everything, he told himself, kissing her hair, for this.

/-/

Albus turned over the vial in his hands, and he did not ask Lily how she talked it out of Horace, but he suspected that a little more than talking was involved. He wondered which potion she'd used, or perhaps if she'd used both. Still, here it was, in his hands, the answer to all of his questions. A maximum number of Horcruxes they were looking for, and exactly what Horace told Tom about them. Albus didn't think that it would solve all of his problems for him, but it was a starting point, something to build from.

So why was he still holding it in his hands, stoppered, unviewed? Why had he not put it in his Pensieve, learned the secrets he needed to learn and begin planning his next phase? Wasn't that what a seasoned, dispassionate general did when new intelligence came his way?

But whatever Albus was in his old age, he would never be dispassionate. He looked at Tom, and much as with Gellert, and he saw his mistakes, his miscues, the dozens of places where perhaps he could have done or said something different, stopped it all before it could begin. What good was it to be one of the greatest wizards in the world if he couldn't turn off his compassion, if he let his heart guide him away from what had to be done until it was too late to do anything else?

Nearly thirty years ago, Albus waited until it was nearly too late to stop Gellert, until the world was nearly changed forever. He could not afford to do that again, especially when he suspected that Tom was twice the wizard Gellert could ever hope to be.

So why was he still just holding the vial?

 **A/N: Hello! :D Here's part two of the Horace Slughorn extravaganza! I have to say, this was one of my favorite chapters to write, and I'm so happy to share it with all of you. I tried to shine some light into the recesses of some lesser-liked characters' minds. Most of us don't really love Horace or Albus, but I wanted to portray them as people, with their soft edges, not black or white. I think this chapter is one of my better triumphs in that regard, and I hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Also, Lily as a secret agent. Can I just say, grinning like an idiot.**

 **Review Prompt: What do you think Snape's bedtime routine is? Don't ask me where these questions come from. They just pop in my head.**

 **-C**


	20. Unspoken

Just as Cara was pulling up the sheet so that Kreacher didn't feel the need to make their bed when he went about cleaning the house for the day, she heard the sound of something shattering out in the corridor, or perhaps on the stair. Sirius had already left for the day, had to see someone, he said, and Cara didn't bother asking. There was so much he couldn't tell her, and she didn't especially want to know.

Cara hurried out onto the stair and called up, "Walburga? Is everything alright?"

No answer.

Now Cara was increasingly anxious, and she tried to calm herself by saying that her mother-in-law must have knocked something, perhaps dropped a mirror or bumped a cup of tea off her vanity. There were hundreds of reasons for the sound of something breaking, but it was that there was no answer that made Cara's stomach tight with anxiety.

She came to the top of the stairs, the floor where both of Sirius's parents were sleeping now that his mother had vacated the master bedroom for the married couple. The door to Walburga's room was closed, but the door to Orion's room was wide open.

Cara stepped in to see a cup of tea and the saucer on the floor, shattered, the floor splattered with tea and a spoon just lying there beside the half a dozen pieces of cup. Walburga was sitting on the floor, silent and seemingly lost for words, perhaps the first time in her life. She was trembling, Cara realized, staring at the cup at her feet like if she looked at anything else, the world around her would collapse.

There was no need to ask what was wrong. As soon as Cara looked at Orion, she realized he was dead. His eyes were open for once, unblinking and glassy, gray and empty, none of the usual interest and kindness they had when they saw Cara's presence. Apart from the open eyes, he looked terribly peaceful, like he could have been sleeping. She crossed to him, touched his hand, and felt that he was cold and stiff, so he must have passed sometime while they were all asleep, sometime in the night.

Finally, what seemed like ages, Walburga spoke, her voice small and almost like a child.

"Where's Sirius?"

"He's…I…" Cara began to wring her hands together as she tried to think of what to do first. "He had to go out. He didn't say where. I…I suppose I should call Narcissa, shouldn't I?"

There was no answer, so Cara called for Kreacher, who appeared at once.

"Kreacher," Cara said, still wringing her hands as she saw his eyes widen at the sight of Orion's corpse. "Kreacher, I need you to go to Malfoy Manor and tell Narcissa that Orion has passed. And, and that she should come please. Can you?"

"Yes, Mistress Cara," he said, still staring at Orion.

"And, and when you've done that, can you find Master Sirius? I'm not sure where he's gone, but he needs to know."

"Yes, Mistress."

"G-go on, then."

Kreacher left without another word, and Cara thought as soon as he'd left that she should have asked him to clear the broken teacup before he went.

/-/

Sirius paced the floor of the small library and sitting room combination of Snape's Muggle home, Spinner's End. It was strange going to Cokeworth at all, a place he'd not been since Lily moved out of her parents' home.

"You're quite certain?" Sirius prompted.

"No doubt whatsoever," Snape said softly.

"But Cara wouldn't jump into bed with anyone, much less a twerp like him," Sirius said, quite sure of the fact. He and Cara had a special bond, and a lot of it seemed to have to do with the bonding they did during Bella's original ploy. There was no way Barty Crouch, Jr. would manage to seduce her.

"Perhaps not fully willing, but you know, as I know, that there are other ways."

Like being doused with cold water, Sirius shivered and froze, realizing that there were potions, spells, all kinds of things that could cause Cara to behave not like herself. And she had no obvious reason to avoid Barty. He had been a supposed friend of Regulus, someone they might not have trusted but certainly not someone they were especially concerned about.

"There are a few things I'll have to see to," Sirius said, frowning, turning back to Snape, who was watching him thoughtfully. "But first, how long would it take you to brew me an antidote for…everything?" Snape smirked slightly. "I'll pay whatever you want."

Snape didn't bother holding in the smirk long. He quirked an eyebrow and said, "I'll get started today."

/-/

Narcissa was startled by the sudden appearance of Kreacher, but when he told her about the death of Orion Black, there was no need for him to continue. Sirius and Cara would need her. She left immediately for Grimmauld Place, and was greeted by a trembling and bewildered Cara at the front door. Narcissa took a scarf off her head and followed her cousin's wife into the house.

"Walburga's in shock," Cara said, as though she weren't in shock herself. "Kreacher's going to find Sirius, I've no idea where he's gone. I…. What do I do? I don't know what to do. His eyes are still open, and I…."

"You go make a cup of tea for Aunt Walburga," Narcissa said gently. "Wait with her for Sirius. You just leave the rest to me for now, alright? One step and a time and deep breaths. Everything's going to be just fine."

Cara nodded and hurried down to the kitchen, presumably to make tea. Narcissa peeled off her gloves and went directly up to Uncle Orion's bedroom, where he was certainly dead, still stiff and quite cold, his eyes unblinkingly gazing up at the ceiling.

"Look at the mess you've left us with," she muttered, frowning at the body. "Always so bloody selfish. All Sirius ever wanted to was be himself and still please you. And you were just a selfish coward. You never deserved those boys, never deserved either of them."

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath before smoothing her expression into one of non-interest and using her handkerchief to close his eyes. Sirius didn't need to see him like that, not after everything else that had happened.

/-/

When Albus finished with the proper version of Horace's memory, he felt slightly sick.

Tom, when he asked Horace about Horcruxes, had already known the workings of the magic behind it. Either he'd already made one, or he'd already made two. There was something about that ring, the one Tom was wearing in the memory, that Albus recalled from somewhere, and he knew he had to visit the little pair of towns that was home once to both the Gaunts and the Riddles.

There was something, as well, about the other question Tom asked that tickled something in Albus's memory. Tom had asked about whether a rumor was true, an old rumor that Professor Galetea Merrythought would be retiring soon. Perhaps Tom had banked on that at the time, although Headmaster Dippet would not hire Tom right out of school, and Albus had refused to hire him again when he returned to England.

But he had come to Hogwarts. He had tried.

No, the worst thing about the memory was the number.

Seven pieces. Seven Horcruxes. Perhaps he had not yet made all of them, and Albus did think that was true. He expected that Tom wanted to get his hands on something from Godric Gryffindor, but all those things were very safely contained within Hogwarts.

But if the others were completed, that meant something from Rowena Ravenclaw had been found and marred, and that something else….

The ring. That ring. And now Albus had to think of where Tom would possibly put the ring. But first he had to go to Little Hangleton and see what could be seen.

/-/

Sirius was just about to leave Snape's house when Kreacher suddenly appeared. He blinked at his elf, who seemed flustered.

"How did you find me?" he asked. "No, never mind that, what's wrong, Kreacher? Is it Cara?"

"Mistress is fine," Kreacher said shaking slightly. "Master Orion has passed. Mistress Narcissa is at Grimmauld Place. Mistress Cara has requested that I bring you home."

Sirius felt that feeling like being doused in cold water again. His father had died, and he'd left his mother and wife at home alone to deal with it without meaning to. How shocking that must have been, for both of them. At least Narcissa was there. She would stay level-headed and see things set in motion.

"I have go to," he said, not even looking around at Snape. "Give me a bill and do whatever you think necessary. I'll reimburse you for all of it."

Snape said that he would start right away, but Sirius was barely listening. He hurried out of the house, Disapparating on the spot, not caring if he splinched himself. He needed to be at home.

/-/

The elf was gone almost as soon as Black was, and Severus stepped back slightly, closing his front door thoughtfully.

Whatever Black's feelings about his father, he was now the head of the Black family, which had its own benefits. No, what had upset Black was that his wife was almost certainly a mess with the stress of the situation. He hurried away not because he wanted to be there or because he needed to be there, but because she needed him.

Bellatrix was right about one thing: Sirius Black's greatest weakness was his wife.

With that thought, he went to the lab he had set up in his parents' old bedroom, where he already had a few things going for the Dark Lord. He pulled a bit of parchment and a quill to him, beginning the list of things he would need for his commission for Black.

Truth serums, the most common and most powerful love potions, several potions to induce unconsciousness, helplessness, confusion…. As long as it was on Black's dime, he thought with a small, unconscious smile forming at his lips, better safe than sorry.

/-/

Sirius checked that Cara was alright first thing when he arrived, but Kreacher beat him home and he was forcing tea on her. Cara seemed to already have forced tea and perhaps a dash of alcohol on his mother, but the old bat still squeaked when she saw him, sloshing her tea slightly as she stood to rush to him.

"Sirius," she cried, flinging herself at him. His revulsion toward her had never really left, but he knew this wasn't the time to let it show. With any luck she'd die of heartbreak soon enough. "Oh, Sirius, you have to arrange everything. I cannot…."

"Relax, mother," he said, raising an eyebrow at Kreacher, her hurried over to coax his mistress to a nearby chair. "Narcissa and I will take care of everything. You just have some more tea and we'll let you know when the funeral is, alright?"

He didn't bother to wait for her nod or approval or anything, but he hurried up the stairs to his father's bedroom where Narcissa was sitting in the chair by his father's bed jotting things down in a sketchbook like she was deciding what color the drapes in the sitting room ought to be. Sirius saw a shattered teacup and a stain on the floor that Kreacher hadn't gotten around to cleaning and he wondered if his mother had dropped that, or Cara. He couldn't think which would be worse.

"Good that you're here, Sirius," Cissy said in her business-like tone. "I've contacted the same people used for Regulus's proceedings. Obviously, there's a body this time so things will be a bit different, but they'll be coming to get the body in about half an hour."

Sirius hummed, sitting beside her on a chair he conjured.

"He wasn't a great dad," Sirius said, "but he wasn't the worst, I guess."

She said nothing, and they sat in silence for a long minute.

"I take it you want me to arrange it all?" she asked.

"Mmm."

"Funeral in three days, suits?"

"Yeah."

"I'll take care of it, then."

"Hey, Cissy, do me a favor."

"Anything."

"When he's buried, when you think it's appropriate, convince my mother that this place needs to be redecorated, and you and Cat can arrange it however you think is best. Just…. I can't live here like this. And I have to live here."

"It'll be unrecognizable, and it'll be the quickest redecoration you'll ever see. Where were you, by the way?"

"Your charming sister is scheming again. Snape caught on to her plot. Keep an eye out for Cara, will you? And keep an eye on Barty. The younger one. Apparently he's licking Bella's shoes on the way to the top."

Narcissa's eyes were dark and thoughtful as she glanced over at him, but she nodded and said she would keep an eye on both of them.

The two hardly had to say a word to each other. He knew without asking that she understood exactly how he felt about Bella's machinations, about his father's death, about the house and the mess he was in. He only wished he could see the end in sight. He supposed they would find out soon.

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Albus knocked sharply on Andromeda's door, and her eyes were tired as she invited him inside. He suspected that she'd not been sleeping well, but that was to be expected, all things considered.

"I won't take up much of your time," he said, following her into the kitchen and shaking his head as she asked if he wanted a cup of tea. "I have a message for you to pass along to your sister, when you have the first opportunity. Tell them that there are two, and that I will keep them informed."

She nodded, fidgeting with a ring on her right finger. He didn't have a good angle to see it, but he suspected it was the ring she had worn at school, with the Black family crest on it. Something about that ring nagged at the back of his memory, but he pushed it aside for the moment, to be examined later. He needed to be present, as Andromeda was clearly troubled.

"Have you ever had a feeling that something was terribly wrong but you have no way of knowing what it could be?" she asked softly.

Albus inclined his head slightly, but he was not being entirely truthful. There were many times he thought things were terribly wrong and he couldn't quite put his finger on what, but he could not remember a time when he had no starting point of inquiry, at the very least.

He attempted to comfort her, but she seemed no less anxious for the company, and he had things that needed to be done, so he took his leave of her and returned his focus to the puzzle at hand.

Her ring, the family crest. He had heard something very similar to that once, and he was certain he had reviewed it not long ago. He had to begin planning his trip to Little Hangleton as soon as he could get away from the school again.

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Sirius poured himself a drink and Cara watched his face for some sign of how he was thinking, feeling. He had been virtually silent since his father's body was taken away, completely silent since Narcissa left with promises to check in again in the morning. There seemed to be more than just his grieving, something weighing on his mind. Perhaps it was something with the Horcruxes, or something he had to do for the Dark Lord or the Order.

Cara knew her husband was wearing thin with all the expectations and demands on his time and loyalty. Deception wasn't in his nature, and he was tired.

She sat beside him and kissed his temple.

"Your mother is sleeping," she said softly. "I gave her a potion. She won't wake until morning."

Sirius nodded.

She sighed and pressed another kiss to his temple.

"Sirius, when all this is over," she said, "let's just go away for a while. Not forever. But a month, two months, until we feel like ourselves again. And let's stop all the events and the lies, alright? I don't feel like me anymore, and I don't think you probably feel much like you."

His mouth twitched into a sad smile and she watched him take a long, healthy sip of firewhiskey. He set down the glass and took her hand warmly in his, his rough fingers caressing her delicate skin and seemingly leaving fire in their wake. How was it possible for one man to cause such unnatural desire? Sirius pressed his lips to the inside of her wrist, right at her pulse point, where he could likely feel her heart begin to race against his lips.

"I love you," he whispered. "Whatever happens, whatever I have to do, never doubt that, Cat. I would do anything for you."

She wished he wouldn't say things like that, but she knew enough already to know he was telling her the absolute truth. And Cara was afraid for a moment of what things he might do for her, what terrible things he might be asked to do for her.

All she wanted was to be free, just to know what it felt like to be free of all the weights. She wanted to know what she and Sirius could be without their strings. She really couldn't know, but she imagined it would be wonderful.

"I love you, too," she said through tears, and she felt his smile against her wrist, wishing those words could really heal.

 **A/N: So, Orion is dead and Sirius and Severus have begun a side scheme to protect Cara. Narcissa has been instructed to start remodeling Grimmauld Place. What next?**

 **Remember, 10 reviews and you get a bonus chapter this week!**

 **Review Prompt: If you were remodeling Grimmauld Place, where would you start? Keep in mind, Walburga is not dead and so that dreadful portrait doesn't exist.**

 **-C**


	21. Rest and Unrest

The bench was stiff and creaky as Albus sat down, but he wasn't thinking about the bench. In the past several days, he had been all over the village and the town, learning everything he could about the Gaunts and the Riddles. All morning, it had taken to find this little ring, but now that he was holding it, he didn't know what to do.

In an old memory, the memory of Morfin being arrested for attacking a Muggle, Albus had seen Marvolo Gaunt refer to the locket, practically choke his daughter with it as he explained to the Ministry man that they were descended from Slytherin. But Marvolo Gaunt had gone further. He had showed the Ministry man a ring, this ring, and told him that it had etched on the stone the Gaunt family crest.

The symbol had not been especially clear in the memory, but any fool could see that it was not a crest, and certainly not the Gaunt crest, but Marvolo Gaunt had been a half-mad man, desperately broken by the lack of legacy his children constituted.

Now that Albus held the ring in his hands, however, he could see the symbol, and he knew it well. A triangle, a circle, and a line through the center. The symbol of the Deathly Hallows. He closed his eyes and was assaulted with memories of his obsession, the passion of a child who thought himself a man because he had reached his majority and gained some measure of renown.

This, this stone set in a ring, holding a piece of Tom Riddle's soul – likely a piece torn away when he murdered his father and grandparents – was the Resurrection Stone. When Albus was young he was fascinated by the Wand and the Cloak, but now he had the Wand, taken when he defeated Gellert, and the Cloak was as unknown as it had ever been in history. But ever since that horrible day, since the loss of Ariana, Albus had wished to find the ring, to tell her how sorry he was.

He blinked back the blurriness of tears, taking a deep breath as he tried not to think about how peaceful her body looked, devoid of life, devoid of pain. All she ever wanted was to be normal, to please her eldest brother. She had pleased him, just by being a sweet, gentle girl, and yet he never told her. Albus should have told her every day how precious she was to him, how desperately he loved her. He should never have let his love for Gellert eclipse his love for Ariana.

Albus clutched the ring in his hand and fought the urge to pull the stone out of its setting, to turn it three times and see her. Whether it worked properly or not, it had driven its first owner to madness, according to legend, and now it could do worse. Any Horcrux was not a trifling matter, but Tom's soul was certainly not one to forget. A curse was likely, so Albus slipped the little ring into his pocket and told himself that if it was destroyed, then it was destroyed.

One couldn't change the past. He could tell her on the other side, when he saw her again. For now, there was work to be done, and as long as he kept reminding himself of that, of all the people counting on him, he could fight the painful tightness in his chest at the thought of what he could do if he only used that stone.

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Severus delivered the first set of antidotes to Grimmauld Place on the morning of the funeral. The Blacks had already left Number 12, but their elf answered the door. Kreacher, Severus thought it was called. The elf recognized him, told him the masters were out of the house, and Severus took the package out of his cloak.

"I know," he said. "I am going to the funeral from here, myself. I am delivering potions for your master. These antidotes are the first in a series of antidotes I will be brewing for him, and I want him to have them right away. They may be unnecessary, but they could be critical to his wife's well-being. Do you understand?"

Kreacher indicated that he did understand.

"Give these only to Mr. Black," Severus said in a low voice. "He will know what they are."

Kreacher said that he would, and he took the package delicately. Severus left immediately for the funeral, knowing that if it took too long, he would be missed.

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As soon as Albus returned to Hogwarts, he turned over his copy of Beedle the Bard's tales, not opening it to the story of the three brothers who cheated Death, because he knew it all by heart. Instead, he thought of time spent – wasted, he had told himself for years – on examining that story, examining family histories, tracing the lines of the Elder Wand, searching for the Stone and Cloak.

He told himself years ago that perhaps they were wrong, perhaps the Peverell family had nothing to do with the story after all. Nothing had turned up in the search, but the Wand would always be the most difficult to track. Unlike the other two, it had not been passed through family lines, but taken by the winner of the wand for centuries, leaving a trail of rumor and blood in its wake.

If it hadn't been for Gellert finding it, Albus likely never would have come close.

And now, in his capacity as savior of the wizarding world, Albus had stumbled into having two of the Deathly Hallows in his hands.

Would Fiendfyre destroy the properties of the Stone as well as the Horcrux? There weren't many ways to destroy that piece of soul, and he doubted very much whether the Stone would still work when all was said and done, which tempted him to try using it first, but that couldn't be safe.

Weighing his choices was agonizing, but he knew the right thing, the thing he had to do in spite of his desires. That was the true burden of greatness, he knew, the constant sacrifice of his own desires for the greater good.

Setting down the little book and picking up his wand, Albus let out a shaky breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He would summon a Patronus. He would be requiring Alastor's help once again.

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Sirius stood in the cool graveyard, looking down at the freshly dug grave, the freshly lowered coffin that the grave keeper was using his wand to shift dirt over. There was a strange mix of peace and loss. At least he had returned before his father died. At least his father didn't die thinking Sirius was lost forever, the only remaining son and a terrible disappointment.

Cara slipped her arm into Sirius's and he swallowed, not looking at her. He had taken her in that morning, admiring her in the suave black dress robes, with her veil attached to her shining dark hair. Sirius wanted to tell her how beautiful she looked, but he hadn't been able to form words all morning. He was afraid if he spoke, he would finally cry.

Snape was at the back of the mourners when Sirius finally turned away from the grave and allowed Cara to lead him to the gate. The two men met eyes and Snape nodded, letting Sirius know that the first batch of antidotes were at Grimmauld Place in that one simple motion. Sirius would check their seals to be sure, although he knew Snape's professional pride kept him from making those sorts of careless mistakes, and he would review the labels to be sure he could read them and that he understood what each was for. If he had questions, he wanted to ask them before he needed the answers.

He looked around for his mother, and he saw her clinging to Narcissa, trembling with silent tears. Narcissa patted her aunt with a graceful, gloved hand, and she glanced at Sirius with a solemn gaze that made him feel as though he should stay, but he couldn't. He just couldn't, and Cara seemed to realize this as she kept walking him toward the gate.

"Come on," she whispered, touching his jaw gently when they stopped at the gate. "Let's go home."

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The two, battle-worn men stood in the woods together, looking at the ring Albus had set on the ground. Alastor frowned at it.

"What's different about this one?" he asked. "We're just destroying them, right?"

Albus stared at the ring. That should have been all that mattered, destroying it. That was the most important thing, but Albus's selfishness begged him to simply take a moment and use the Stone. It could be destroyed after.

"Yes," Albus said. "Yes, destroying it is the most important thing."

Alastor gave him a curious, questioning look, but Albus offered him no answers, and Alastor did not press for further explanations. Instead, the two men looked back down at the ring as Alastor began to roll up his sleeves.

"Let's get started, then. The sooner we finish, the sooner I can have my lunch."

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Narcissa slipped inside her sister's home, tearing off a veil, ignoring Andromeda's puffy eyes. She knew her sister was mourning Uncle Orion, although why was the true question. As much as Orion had missed Sirius after his running away, Orion had taken steps to bar Andromeda from inheriting so much as a Sickle as soon as he learned of her marriage.

"I can't stay long," she said softly. "I'm expected at the wake at Grimmauld Place. Just close family, you understand, and Bella likely won't stay long, but I can't linger. Lucius is likely already missing me.

"I understand," Andromeda said urgently. "Dumbledore said to tell you as soon as possible. He said there are two more, and that he'll keep you all posted."

Narcissa nodded, thinking about the number, turning it over. Two more to go, and then they would have to plan where to go from there. If they got rid of all the Horcruxes, certainly the next step would have to be getting rid of the Dark Lord, and Narcissa did not even know where to begin.

"Did he…mention me at all?" Andromeda asked as Narcissa was turning to go.

Closing her eyes, recalling with a kind of satisfaction and bitterness the way those eyes had looked, staring emptily up at the ceiling, powerless to judge any longer.

"Yes," she lied. "Just the once."

"I understand."

Clearly, she did not understand, the relief in her voice, but that was fine. Narcissa didn't bother to say goodbye as she left the Muggle home, walked to the end of the street, and Disapparated.

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Alastor picked up the ring to see if it was cool. The setting itself was melted from the heat, hardly recognizable as a ring anymore, but apparently it was cool enough, because he passed it to Albus gingerly and said, "Well, how about that, then? Is it enough?"

The traces of Dark magic had fled the ring, Albus could feel that instantly. The Stone was charred, the engraved portion white from the heat, but it was in one piece. Perhaps this meant that it would work still. He would have to check it for further curses, but those should have been cleared by the Fiendfyre.

"Yes, Alastor. Thank you."

The shorter, younger man grumbled something about the mess the Auror office was in after Orion Black's death. The goblins, Albus understood, had said that they could not examine the contents of the vault without the new owner's permission, and Sirius refused to grant permission and had no reason to do so. Alastor was obviously hoping that Albus would convince Sirius to change his tune, but that did not fit with their need, so he ignored the terribly unsubtle hints and took his leave, citing a need to return to the school. He would have things to do, as he always did, and things tempting him away from his duties that were normally only memories he hated to recall.

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Cara sat with Narcissa, who was stirring her tea absently while Sirius dealt with Bellatrix and her awful husband. Cara knew she shouldn't think so ill of her brother, but in spite of Rabastan's negatives, he had the capacity to do kind things, when it suited him. Cara wondered if Rudolphus and Bella knew what kindness actually was.

"Do you have any thoughts for the house?" Narcissa asked abruptly.

"Sorry?"

"Well, Sirius wants us to remodel the place, and I thought perhaps he'd mentioned it to you and you'd already had some thoughts. Merlin knows I had ideas before I'd even moved in to Malfoy Manor about what to do with the place."

Her expression was hidden behind the teacup, but Cara thought that Narcissa was perhaps wincing or grimacing at the memory of something that had originally been at her Wiltshire home.

Sirius hadn't mentioned it to Cara at all, but then he had been very busy of late. Cara said that she hadn't really thought about it, and Narcissa shrugged, setting her cup down again.

"I suppose we can take things one room at a time," Narcissa said thoughtfully, looking around the kitchen. "There's nothing inherently wrong in here, so I say we save it for last and see how we feel about it. How do you feel about your bedroom?"

"It's…a bit dark."

Narcissa's lips twitched at this, and Cara felt her face and neck flush. All the old pureblood homes seemed to be dark in décor, and the Blacks were perhaps the worst about it, followed closely by the Lestranges and the Selwyns. Cara had a feeling that if it weren't for Narcissa's more delicate influence, the Malfoy Manor would be just as bad.

"You don't think Walburga will object, do you?" Cara asked as Narcissa took another sip of her tea. "I mean, this is her home, has been for…decades. It doesn't seem very fair, changing it while she still lives here without even asking."

"Darling," Narcissa said, setting her empty teacup down, "you just leave Auntie Walburga to me. For one thing, as the lady of the house, it is perfectly within your rights now to redecorate, and we can move whatever she wants to keep into her room, after all. Sirius wants it done as well, probably more than either of us. He was never really happy here, and it's hard on him, moving back in." She frowned slightly. "I suppose he'll want the tapestry down, but I'm not sure I could do it, even if I thought it was wise."

"Tapestry?"

"The Black Family Tree. You haven't seen it? The first floor drawing room. It's funny, I suppose, as neither of you is actually on it, and so none of your children will be, either. Sirius used to be, you understand, but he was blasted off of it, forcibly removed, if you like, when he ran away from home at sixteen, and it's not like he can just be put back."

Cara shivered slightly.

"Are many people removed?" she asked casually.

"Rather a lot in my lifetime, actually," Narcissa said thoughtfully. "You get one or two here and there back through the generations, but there's Sirius and my sister, Andromeda, for marrying that Muggle-born of hers. And Uncle Alphard. Walburga's brother, you know."

Feeling uncomfortable, Cara asked, "What was he removed for?"

Narcissa's lips twitched and she glanced at the stairs up to the entryway for a moment before saying, in a lowered voice, "He was blasted off after he died. He'd left Sirius money in his will, you understand, enough for him to get that place in London he was living in before he came back to us. Well, it was an unspeakable betrayal to Walburga, because she knew why he'd done it. He always thought it was funny, Andromeda and Sirius rebelling. It was his own kind of rebellion, something he never dared in his lifetime, you understand. Everyone always told him he should be more like his cousin Orion, but Alphard got the last laugh." Narcissa snorted. "All the laughs, probably. He was all about enjoying himself, and Uncle Orion was all about doing the proper thing, which is why he married his cousin where Alphard stayed a happy, carefree bachelor. I think Uncle Alphard expected Sirius to stay a bachelor too, you know. Sirius never showed much interest in women, growing up. I think he thought romance was dull."

Cara's neck flushed at the knowing look Narcissa gave her.

"Anyway, I'll be back around next week, probably. Lots to do. It'll be good to have a project, keep ourselves busy. Four levels and an attic, you know," she said, frowning slightly. "So many bedrooms, I'm really not sure what we're going to do with them all."

Narcissa got up without any further parting, and she'd almost reached the staircase when she turned, raised a finger as though just remembering something, and pursed her lips together as she met Cara's eye.

"One more thing," she said slowly, glancing up the staircase for a moment before turning back to Cara and lowering her voice to a barely-audible whisper. "Two more. And we'll get the news."

Sitting up a bit straighter, Cara nodded that she understood, and waved goodbye blandly to Narcissa, who went up the stairs as though she'd said nothing of particular consequence, leaving Cara to stir her lukewarm tea and ponder this update.

Two more Horcruxes. The number was less than her nightmares had suggested to her, but a new nightmare arose in her waking mind, teasing her in that terrifying voice that seemed to live at the back of her head and suggest terrible thoughts.

Only two more Horcruxes to find and destroy. But then, where would they go from there?

 **A/N: Hello! I realize this section hasn't been a scintillating, but it's building. I promise. We're getting REALLY close to big stuff. And I hope you guys are enjoying the Albus storyline with the Hallows. This has been a big challenge for me.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you think Walburga is going to react/behave during the remodeling process?**

 **-C**


	22. Pieces on the Board

Sirius quirked an eyebrow at the professor he had found so obnoxious while in school.

"There's a young girl coming," Slughorn was saying eagerly, as though Sirius cared. "She's a first year, Miss Jones. I've invited her. I usually leave out first years excepting extreme cases of achievement, but I can tell she's going to be something special. I happened to be going to see Pomona Sprout about some ingredients I needed when the first years were doing their flying lessons, and she's a natural, Sirius. Made me think rather of your friend, Mr. Potter."

It felt surreal enough being back at Hogwarts, but the mention of his friendship with James was somehow bittersweet. It had been so long since he really spent time with James, given the pull of all his high-stakes commitments.

"Yes, professor," Sirius said dryly. "She will be at this…dinner?"

"Yes, of course," Slughorn said eagerly. "I'm sure you'll like her very much. I have half a mind of connecting her with some of my former students in the Quidditch world, but it would help if she had some powerful sponsorship."

Ah, a bid for his money and influence, Sirius thought wryly as he tried not to laugh. Merlin, what he wouldn't give to be back at his own house, dismal as it was, to help his wife and cousin look at bloody fabric swatches for the second floor sitting room or some such thing. Instead, here he was, getting ready to see a bunch of stupid students Slughorn thought worth his attention, when half of them were only invited because their parents did something or had money.

"Where would you like me to sit, professor?" he asked, eager to avoid any such base and vile discussions.

And then Sirius felt slightly sick as he realized his inner train of thought just sounded remarkably like his mother at a society luncheon.

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"Let's start at the beginning," Narcissa said gently to the overwhelmed Cara, who looked at the sheer volume of samples and swatches and had the expression of someone about to vomit. "Shall we start with the top of the house, or the bottom?"

"Bottom," Cara said, just a little too quickly, but Narcissa knew why. Starting at the top meant starting quite early on with Regulus's room, and neither her nor Sirius was quite ready for that.

"We've decided to pass on the kitchen for the moment," Narcissa said, glancing at the brief list she'd made up while they were discussing general impressions Cara had of other houses and manors. "So why don't we look at the entryway first? Entryway, stairwell, corridors. Tie the house together from top to bottom and then go from room to room? Yes, I think that would be best."

Cara just nodded as Narcissa began a list of things that needed to go. The house-elf heads, for one thing. It just wasn't done, and one of their ancestors who was never quite right in the head had started the tradition and they had enough ancestors not at all right in the head that it continued through far too many house-elves. It would take some wrangling with Auntie Walburga, but perhaps some kind of compromise could be reached. Perhaps she could make some plea on behalf of Cara's sensitivity.

"A lighter wood on the banister, perhaps?" Narcissa said brightly.

"I kind of like the banister, actually," Cara said, frowning.

At this, Narcissa beamed and began filtering out her paint swatches accordingly. Now they were getting somewhere.

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After the third test, Lily rubbed her cheeks anxiously and leaned back in her chair. She couldn't fool herself into thinking it was a false positive. They weren't especially careful about that kind of thing, but she hadn't been actively trying for anything. She hadn't even thought about it until Alice Longbottom mentioned three days ago that she'd just found out she was pregnant. That prompted Lily to realize she hadn't had her own period, which she should have started on Sunday.

No, there was no arguing with it. She was pregnant, and she would have to think of a way to tell James that didn't induce panic or fainting. She wasn't entirely sure he was ready to be a father.

Come to that, she didn't feel fully ready to be a mother.

But there wasn't much to do about it now but try to be ready, because the baby was coming no matter what they thought about it.

She took a deep breath through her nose as she heard the shower turn off.

"James!" she called, squeezing her hands into fists repeatedly to try to stop them trembling. "Do you know what you'll want for dinner?"

He opened the bathroom door and said, "Have we got any fish?"

"Don't think so."

"Ah, bugger. Pasta, then?"

"Sure," she said, smiling at him. "Can you pick up some bread to go with it?"

"Anything you want, love," he said cheerfully.

And she felt nauseous again, but she ignored it. Now that she knew what it was, she was going to employ mind over matter. Hormones were absolutely not the boss of Lily Potter, and she was going to prove it.

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Cara was exhausted and bewildered as Narcissa held up color combination after color combination. Establishing basics was easy enough. They were going to tear out the Victorian wallpaper that made the house so dreary and claustrophobic to Cara, but all they had established was that the paint would have to be light.

"You can't use reds and golds, Cara," Narcissa said when Cara asked why whole colors were missing from the options. "Those are Gryffindor colors."

"Sirius was a Gryffindor."

Narcissa sniffed and said, "Yes, and that's still a very sore point with the family. Best not remind his mother of that particular disappointment. She sent him a Howler after his Sorting. No, best to stick with greens, silvers, blacks, and I suppose you can get away with blues and purples."

Cara was beginning to see why all the houses she could remember apart from her time in the Order were so drab and dreary. The prejudices that ran so deep were terribly limited in decoration schemes.

"Run through the options again," she said wearily. "Let's see what we have to work with."

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When Sirius arrived back from the event, he was exhausted. He did have to confess that this Miss Gwenog Jones was intelligent, charming, and way more mature than most first years he'd met, but it was still strange that she had been invited to sit with students much older than her. She held her own, but it still made Sirius uncomfortable.

He was eager to see his wife when he got home, but she was essentially being held hostage by his cousin, who was trying to explain why green needed, at the very least, to be an accent color.

"This may be a house passed through the Black family for generations," Cara said with surprising coolness in her voice as Sirius went down the stairs to the kitchen. "But it is Sirius's home, and it is my home, and there is no reason for us to pander to the past. No green. No silver. No snakes. Is that understood?"

Sirius expected his cousin to be livid at being spoken to so when he got down the stairs, but Narcissa was smirking with a strange kind of satisfaction and pride, and she said, "Now that is exactly what I expect from the lady of the house. Shall we look at blues, then?"

Cara was flushed and aggravated, and she jumped with mild surprise as Sirius sat beside her, grinning.

"I see we've made some progress," he teased. "How are you, lovely?"

"Exhausted," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "Do we really have to do this again tomorrow?"

He just tapped her nose lovingly. He had a feeling now that she'd told Narcissa who was boss the whole thing would be rather more enjoyable going forward.

Cara excused herself to check in with Walburga about dinner, and Sirius kissed Narcissa's cheek as she gathered up her things.

"Long afternoon?" he asked.

"She's getting there," Narcissa said, touching her head.

"Glass of wine before you go?"

"N-no," she said, smiling slightly. "Actually, Sirius, there's something I think I'll tell you first. I'm actually pregnant."

"Really?" he said, surprised but pleased. "Congratulations! You mean you haven't even told Lucius yet?"

Narcissa shook her head, letting him hug her tightly, kissing the top of her soft blonde hair. Her body was tense, and perhaps she was afraid. He knew that she had been told by Healers that having a child would be a tremendous strain on her body, and that she would be lucky to conceive, and carrying the child to term would be a long-shot chance. Lucius had invested a great deal in getting her a series of personal Healers to attempt to increase her chances of bearing a healthy son, but the odds were still against her.

"It's going to be alright," he said gently. "You'll see. Somehow, everything will work out alright."

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Cara slipped her dress off after dinner, desperate to just have a quiet night, especially knowing she would have to do battle with Narcissa again in the morning. Sirius stepped out of the bathroom into their bedroom and his eyes widened slightly at the sight of her. Every time he looked at her like that, it made her pulse race, knowing that he wanted her.

"So," he said, a smirk forming at his lips, "no snakes. No house-elf heads. No silver or green. What can I expect from this new, improved house?"

She sat on the bed, crossing her legs playfully as he crossed the room, pulling off his shirt and unzipping his trousers.

"I was thinking maybe a bigger bed," she said. He groaned in response as she pulled herself onto their bed, away from him as he tried to wiggle out of his trousers as quickly as possible. "Silk sheets." He hummed. "A bigger closet."

"Oh?" he said, smiling. "Tell me, my love, why do we need a bigger closet?"

Cara smirked up at him as he climbed on top of her, his deep gray eyes glowing with desire.

"I was thinking of getting more lingerie," she began, and before she could finish her thought, he began pressing hungry kisses on her collarbone, only increasing the intensity of his attentions as she curled her fingers in his soft hair and sighed his name with contentment.

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Although he had tried to focus on his responsibilities for the school, the war, the final Horcrux, even requests from the Minister, but every time Albus sat down at his desk, he was reminded of the little stone in the top drawer with his spare pair of spectacles and Deluminator.

He shouldn't do it, but he knew that if he did not, he would have no clarity, no rest. Albus locked the door, put out all his candles, and walked out of his office, up to his private quarters. He preferred to stay in his study, but for the portraits. All those eyes and ears, they would surely remember and comment on the affair, successful or otherwise.

Albus preferred his quarters to be stark, to avoid distraction. He had very few hours available for sleep, and he wished to make the most of them. He kept a simple bed with simple white sheets and blankets. He had several candles, a basic table beside his bed with only a stack of parchment and a quill in cases of inspiration before sleep. A small, nondescript wardrobe leaned against the far wall, containing all of his clothing required for the year.

Albus held in his hand the little stone. It was cool to the touch, and surprisingly heavy, but perhaps that was the weight of his expectations. He told himself that he would not be disappointed if it did not work, but he knew that it would be devastating.

After a deep breath, Albus turned the Resurrection Stone over three times, eyes shut tight, terrified of what he might find if he opened them. He was trembling, holding his breath, and a small voice said his name.

A sweet, small, kind voice he had not heard in so many years. He opened his eyes to find tears prickling at them, threatening the vision of his beautiful little sister.

"Albus," she said again, smiling at him. "You have done so well."

"Ariana," he said, his chest aching. He wanted to touch her, but she didn't look solid, and he was afraid that if he moved she would be gone. "Ariana, I never meant…. I should have never…."

Although he had longed for this moment for nearly all his life, now that she stood before him he had no idea where to begin, what to say.

"I know," she said, folding her hands. "You're allowed to make mistakes, Albus."

"No," he said, his trembling increasing to a quake. "No, my mistakes can be disasters, Ariana. Look at what I did to you. I cannot afford mistakes."

"You are human, brother. That is important to remember."

"You can't stay," he said, curling his hands into fists, saying it more for his benefit than for hers. He wanted to take her to Aberforth, to keep her with them forever, but he knew the legend better than most. It would only lead to madness and despair, and the world had quite enough of that.

"I know," she said, smiling at him. "But I'm always with you, Albus. Only right now you can see me. I'm always with you."

"I love you," he said. Large tears were dripping from his chin and crooked nose, splashing the floor with surprising volume.

"I love you. And I forgive you, Albus. It's time you forgave yourself."

He nodded, although he knew it would not be easy. He deserved to suffer for what he had done, and holding on to the pain of it was a very helpful reminder of his failings as a man, as a wizard. A powerful prompt to recall his capacity for error, for mistakes that could cost the world.

Knowing that if he did not let go now he would be tempted to hold on to the Stone forever, he dropped it, watching her vanish, watching it roll a little on the floor until it settled in the center of the room.

It was not his to keep, but it shouldn't belong to anyone. It was a dangerous thing, that Stone, just as Albus's wand was a dangerous thing, and the Cloak – if it still existed, wherever it was – was a potentially dangerous thing. Albus could try to find a rightful owner, but perhaps it was safer that the Stone was lost and forgotten, not left in jewelry for some Hallows hunter to find and abuse in pursuit of immortality and power.

"Fawkes," he said softly, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

The phoenix heard him from his perch in the office, and he swept up the stairs to Albus's bedroom, landing on Albus's arm as it outstretched. Albus petted the noble beak of his beloved pet, seeing in the bird's eyes sympathy for his owner's pain.

"I'm afraid, Fawkes," he said softly, "that my wounds are in a place you cannot heal. But there is something you can do for me." He gestured to the stone, and the bird looked at it. "Take that Stone, take it away from here. Take it far from Hogwarts and hide it somewhere neither I nor anyone else will be able to find it. Can you do that for me, Fawkes?"

The bird cooed a melodic response before nuzzling his beak against Albus's cheek where his tears had tracked, and flying off his perch. He scooped up the Stone in his beak and flew out the open window. Albus stood at the window and watched Fawkes grow smaller and smaller in the distance, the moon a sliver on the sky.

/-/

Narcissa arrived back at Malfoy Manor and felt an extreme tiredness in her limbs. She knew in the morning she would have to tell her husband that she was pregnant, perhaps before she left for her cousin's house. For now, she was afraid to tell him because what if something happened and she lost the baby early in? Wouldn't it be safer to tell him later, when she started to show symptoms that could not be ignored?

Lucius was in his study when she arrived, and he looked up with tired eyes, and she knew that whatever the Dark Lord had him doing was draining him.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, tapping his fingers on the edge of his desk absently.

"Ah, yes, Cara has some good ideas for brightening the place," she said smiling sweetly at him.

"I have something I must ask of you," he said, "and I know it will be difficult for you, but it is for the best."

"Oh?"

She didn't like the sound of that, and she wasn't sure what to do if whatever he was about to say conflicted with her work with the others. He sat up a bit straighter and he said, "I know that you love your sister, and I know that she means a great deal to you, but it is not appropriate for you to keep sneaking out to see her. You might be seen."

"Indeed?" she said, ignoring the anger licking at her insides. "Has the Dark Lord spoken with you about this?"

"No, I doubt he knows or cares for the time being," he said dismissively, frowning. "But that is not the point."

"Actually, Lucius, that is the point," Narcissa said coldly. "I will continue to see my sister, perhaps not as often and perhaps not at the same times, but I will do so even if I have to wait for when you are not around to see her. I don't care what you think about it, I don't care what Bella thinks about it, and I certainly don't care what Sirius thinks about it—"

"Sirius?" he said startled.

Oh, that was a good stroke, she thought to herself, clearing Sirius in such a way from the association with her visits to Andromeda.

"He told me that it was a great risk, to continually defy the family. A little hypocritical of him, I thought," she added with a sniff. "Anyway, I don't really care what any of you say. I can adjust when and how I see her, but I will continue to see her unless the Dark Lord himself demands otherwise."

"And if I tell him, if I get that demand?"

She smirked, stepping close to him, leaning down to whisper in his ear, "You wouldn't dare, because you know full well that he would rather torture you than the woman carrying a pureblood child for the disobedience."

Lucius's eyes widened, and she just smiled at him sweetly as she backed away from him, and she left him sitting alone without further explanation, wondering what he was going to try to control her now.

Soon enough, she knew, he would learn that he could not, and that she was the one holding all the cards.

 **A/N: So many plotlines inching forward! The house remodeling is being planned. Three babies on the way. And Albus gets a dose of closure. Are you excited? I'm excited.**

 **Review Prompt: How do you imagine James is going to react to the news?**

 **-C**


	23. Distantly Related

Cara didn't know what was going on with Barty Crouch, but he had been staring at her all through dinner at Lestrange Manor.

Sirius was sitting beside her, Barty across from her, and Rabastan sat on the other side of her, his body slightly tense. Cara knew something was wrong, but she didn't know what and she wasn't comfortable with not knowing.

The whole dinner party adjourned to the sitting room for drinks, and Cara was clinging to Sirius's arm, ignoring the way Barty was looking at her. Sirius handed her a glass of wine and did not grab one for himself, but instead looked around at the room soberly, as if laying down some kind of challenge.

She was surprised that Severus came over, and that Sirius did not even frown at him.

"It has begun," Severus said cryptically.

"I had noticed," Sirius replied, his voice dry. It softened when he addressed Cara without looking at her. "Drink up, Cat. Enjoy yourself. I imagine we'll be going home early."

"What's going on?" she asked.

"I might tell you later," he muttered. "Just don't let yourself be on your own. Myself or Severus at all times, understood?"

She nodded, but she felt even more uneasy with the fact that Sirius was now using Severus's first name. What could possibly bond them closer together than the hunt for Horcruxes?

Bellatrix made an excuse to pry Sirius away from Cara, and at that point Cara became anxious. She turned to Severus, who held out his arm in a surprisingly gentlemanly manner, and he said, "Let's go out on the balcony. Shall we?"

She took deep breaths and nodded, following him out and feeling slightly faint. He told her in a low voice to keep sipping her wine as they walked, which she did dutifully.

/-/

Albus sat down in his office with one of the oldest sentient things in the castle: the Sorting Hat.

"I must say," the hat said when told that Albus needed a word, "it is good to be useful for more than one thing. What may I be of service for? I presume you want to know more than how my song is coming for next year." The hat's rip widened in a kind of smile and he said, "It's going very splendidly, I must say. I'm still trying to puzzle with a good rhyme for decimated, but it will come to me. I've got practically all year!"

With an indulgent smile, Albus said, "It is about your memory, old friend. Apart from the diadem, do you know of any other prized possessions of Rowena Ravenclaw, things she might have passed on as an heirloom?"

"An heirloom?" the hat repeated thoughtfully. "Hmm…. Well, you know, she wasn't especially possessive. I mean to say, Rowena was more interested in thoughts than things. And unlike the other Founders, she didn't really have any family to pass heirlooms on to. After her daughter was killed. But you won't get anything out of Helena, you know. You'd be better off asking the Baron." The hat then cackled slightly.

Albus considered this. Very little was known of the details of Helena Ravenclaw's life, or her death, because her ghost was not forthcoming with information. Of course, she had run away, and the Baron – now the Bloody Baron – had gone to retrieve her and something tragic happened that caused the death of them both, and the silence of them both. Rowena died while they were away.

"Granted," the hat said mischievously, "he hasn't said awfully much since he came back from Albania, has he?"

Albania. Well, that was a start. He thanked the hat and retired to his quarters to mull over his next step in peace and quiet.

/-/

Severus could feel Cara Black's physical and emotional frailty as he led her out to the balcony.

"Don't look back, but Crouch is watching us," he said softly, barely above a whisper.

"Why?" she said.

"Because he has been told to."

"By who?"

"Guess."

She nodded, and he had no doubt that she understood, at least in part, what Bella was expecting. They stood by the rail, watching the moon, and Severus felt an urge to ask her about Lily, but he didn't want to invite questions he wasn't ready to answer.

"How are the renovation plans moving forward?" he asked, although it mattered not at all to him what Black's property looked like.

Cara frowned slightly and explained to him how Narcissa was aggravating her at every turn, pressing her in all the directions that Cara didn't want until Cara would explode at her and remind her that it was her home, and Sirius's home, and they had the final say.

"I don't know why she does it," Cara said despairingly. "She's not like this with anything else."

Severus smirked, seeing quite plainly what Narcissa was up to. He thought perhaps he shouldn't say, but he took some pity on Cara. She'd been kept out of society almost her whole life, so such subtleties were doubtless difficult for her to spot.

"She's preparing you, as it happens," he said, "for potential confrontations from your mother-in-law or sister-in-law."

Cara's mouth formed a small, delicate, and admittedly somewhat…cute "o" of understanding. Of course, the only people likely to object to anything Cara decided were Bellatrix and Walburga, and they were both very forceful, powerful women who presumed to have some manner of control over Cara Black's life. The practice in asserting her will and right was no doubt going to be very important when she began to take ownership of her own life.

"Severus," she said softly, leaning into him slightly, "does anything ever frighten you?"

He thought of Lily, and the idea that something might happen to her. He thought of the handful of times he had seen someone tortured by the Dark Lord until they begged for death. He thought of losing Lily to James Potter.

"Yes," he said.

"I'm afraid all the time," she said. "Not when it's just me and Sirius, but…I'm afraid of almost everyone else. And he can't be with me all the time."

Severus nodded. He recalled the stories that Bella laughingly told of the girl being kept in the cellar, of her occasionally being granted a right to be with company when it was only family, of how her biological father liked to watch her cower in fear of him, and how he would laugh until the small child would be reduced to tears. Severus found it remarkable that there was anything she wasn't afraid of.

"Sometimes, it is enough not to let our fear show," he said, surprising himself by taking her hand and kissing it. "You can do that?"

"I really don't have much of a choice, do I?" she said softly, squeezing at his arm.

He supposed that was really the truth of her existence. At least Narcissa seemed to be giving her plenty of choices for decoration, small a thing as it would seem to most.

/-/

Something was going on with Cara, Narcissa realized, and she really wasn't sure what it was, but she was ready to pin it on Bellatrix somehow. Severus had to leave Cara by herself for a few short moments, and Narcissa was surprised to see Barty Crouch, Jr. approaching Cara, who seemed to be desperately trying not to shrink away from him.

Barty usually showed little interest in the women at events apart from Bella, who had the Dark Lord's approval in her own right. Whatever this was, it certainly had Bella's hand in it, and as far as Narcissa was concerned, it was high time her sister stopped messing with Cara's life for her own purposes.

Narcissa excused herself from her husband and Rabastan, noting something in Rabastan's eye that was almost approval as she made her way to Barty and Cara. Barty was placing his hand on her wrist, and Cara looked as though she wanted to sink into the floor.

"I suggest you remove that hand, Barty," Narcissa said loftily, "unless you want my cousin to remove it for you. I assure you, he has both the skill and the temperament to do so."

Barty's eyes widened slightly with either surprise or fear, or possibly a blend thereof, and he did slowly remove his hand from Cara's wrist.

"I meant no impertinence," he said, his tongue darting out to moisten his bottom lip.

"You are better bred, my dear, than to put your hand on a married woman without familial connection," Narcissa said sternly. "Perhaps school has made you forget your manners."

Barty went pale and he licked his lip again as Narcissa turned away from him, linking her arm in Cara's as she said, "I just was thinking, dear, that we should take another look at wood samples. Because I know you said you liked the banister, but I thought perhaps it might be a bit dark for the paint you decided on. What do you think?"

Severus was approaching, but as soon as he heard that they were talking about decoration he hesitated, and his eyes questioned Narcissa's when they met each other's gaze, wondering whether he should approach or stay close enough to step in if necessary. She smiled slightly to beckon him closer as Cara said that she would look, but that she would rather change the paint than change the banister.

"Ah," Narcissa said, allowing Severus to kiss her hand. "Severus. Would you do me a favor this week and drop by? I want you to check the list of potions my silly Healer has proscribed and give me your professional opinion. I really feel he's got me on far too many things."

"It would be my pleasure, Narcissa."

Barty seemed to realize that he was being squeezed out of the conversation, so he slinked away, and Narcissa caught Rabastan's eye across the room. He nodded slightly approval, glanced at his brother, then back at Narcissa, and nodded again.

Whatever game Bella was playing with poor Cara, Rabastan wasn't backing her this time, it seemed, and that was a good way to counter it, for a start.

/-/

Sirius was starting to get a headache with the whole matter of the Muggle community in Yorkshire that Bella was so eager to burn to the ground. As he had pointed out a dozen times, there was no strategic importance to the community, and she'd be better off burning down some similarly sized neighborhood in the heart of London, really shake things up, but Bella had her heart set on this Yorkshire place.

Rabastan opened the door, tapping his knuckle on it as he pushed it open, and raised his eyebrows.

"Fine," Sirius said, annoyed, "burn down whatever fucking village you want. Did you need something, Rabastan?"

"Ah, Bella, your sister is getting anxious to speak with you about the wine," he said, raising his eyebrows even higher. "Perhaps we could save this conversation for…another occasion?"

"Please, let's," Sirius said, standing. He did not go so far as to thank Rabastan, but he turned to his cousin and said, with a bitter smile, "Oh, and while I'm thinking of it, Bella, keep your pet away from my wife. He may serve the Dark Lord, and he may kiss your boots, but if I catch him looking at my wife like he's been doing again, I will murder him myself. I seriously doubt the Dark Lord would begrudge me that. You ought to know better than to stick your fingers into someone else's family life."

Bella looked like she had been slapped, and she was about to say something, potentially something about how Barty wasn't her doing, but Rabastan said softly, "I support Sirius on this, Bella. Cara may not be my full sister, but I think she's paid her dues for her unorthodox circumstances, much of it by your hand, if I recall. Leave the girl alone."

Sirius tried not to show too much surprise at Rabastan's support, but then, there did seem to be a soft spot for Cara in Rabastan's…heart. If it could be called a heart. Sirius doubted that he would stand up to Bellatrix on anyone else's behalf.

Bella said nothing, storming out of the room, leaving the others standing there, not daring to say a word to each other for fear that they might misread the situation and say something inappropriate. It wasn't over, Sirius was certain, but it was one step forward, letting Bella know that her efforts hadn't gone unnoticed.

/-/

The day after the party, Narcissa went to see Cara in the morning and met Severus at the Manor for tea. She had her list of potions prepared, and he glanced around to indicate his question, in case they were being listened to.

"Lucius is away," she said, smiling slightly. "He has some…business to attend to in Yorkshire."

"Ah, I wondered when that would happen," Severus said. He murmured a word of thanks as she passed him a fresh-poured cup of tea.

"He and Bella are so funny. They're both so obviously nervous of Sirius and his favor with the Dark Lord, and jealous, I expect."

Narcissa hid her nervousness behind her teacup as she watched Severus review the list she had handed him. She was never a crack hand at potions, but she knew enough to be suspicious of the list that had been given to her. Lucius was hopeless at them, and really only did as well as he did because he flattered Slughorn with admirable skill.

"I see why you are concerned," Severus said after several long moments, setting the list down again. "May I examine the preliminary potions you have been given?"

Her heart was beating so violently and urgently as she retrieved the box of potions she had been instructed to take that she thought that the portraits would ask her what was wrong, that surely it would be heard by someone, even just Severus. He took the box gingerly from her hands.

Narcissa watched as Severus held each vial up to the light, cautiously uncorked them, tenderly sniffed them, and then moved on to the next until he had examined each potion in turn. He then returned the final one to the box and looked at her with fathomless, unreadable black eyes. He would make a good Healer, she thought bitterly. He was so impossible to determine, and he could tell her whatever he wanted or needed without her guessing a thing before he began to speak.

"The Healer who is responsible for these potions," he said softly, "is not your usual Healer?"

"No."

"How did you come across him?"

She chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment, not thinking of how unladylike the habit was that she'd picked up from Sirius when they were children. Where exactly had she gotten the Healer from?

"Someone suggested him to Lucius," she said, tapping her fingers thoughtfully on the table. "This was ages ago, back when…back when Sirius was still out of the family," she said, frowning. "Do you know; I think it was Barty? Or perhaps a friend of his. Someone in that line."

Severus nodded thoughtfully.

"And Barty was very…close to Regulus, was he not?"

"Yes, I suppose he was."

"And he is aware, as few are, that Bella is barren?"

Narcissa shivered slightly at the mention of her sister's horribly twisted womb, something it had been suspected that Narcissa would suffer from as well. What a nasty shock to their mother that the most fertile of the sisters was the one who ran away from home to marry a Mudblood.

But Severus's suggestion caused her to nod and think, to really, really think. Her uncle's sister, Lucretia, was also barren, and obviously Uncle Alphard died childless. She ran through the family tree in her mind, realizing that rather a lot of her relatives were childless or barren, or any offspring they'd had was dead without further children. She had to trace back several generations and go several branches of cousin away on the tree to get to Casper Crouch. At least, she was fairly certain that was the man's name, the father of Barty Crouch, Sr.

"Oh, you don't think he would, do you?" Narcissa said, horrified.

"He has the money to pay a Healer to do such a thing," Severus said. "He knows his potions very well. And if you and your sister should die childless, and Regulus as well, then before Sirius returned, he would have become the heir to the Black fortune."

A very chilling idea indeed. Narcissa wondered whether that was part of whatever was going on the night before, with Barty flirting rather openly with Cara.

"I suppose I can't wrap my head around it," she admitted. "He was always such a sweet boy."

"Perhaps, but he joined the Dark Lord and practically worships your mad sister," Severus said dryly. "Let us not confuse cunning with sweetness of temperament."

Her lips twitched as he raised an eyebrow at her. She supposed the same could be said of her, in a way. Severus ran his long, thin, pale fingers along the edges of the box and told her to keep taking the potions, but that he would tell her which ones to take and which to avoid.

"I'll give you additional ones, free of charge," he said, "and dispose of the ones you won't be taking. If this is what I think it is, he'll have quite a shock when your child is carried to term and born perfectly healthy." He smirked. "Perhaps even a son."

Narcissa grasped his hand warmly, smiled at him and said, "Thank you, Severus. I really can't possibly thank you enough."

"Do me one favor," he said, standing. She stood to see him out.

"What is that?"

"Don't you dare think of making me responsible for the child in any way. If you want a godfather for the thing, ask your bloody cousin."

She laughed and said that she wouldn't dare think of asking him for any such thing, and she thanked him again, profusely, as she walked him to the door. Looking over the revised list, she felt a tremendous weight lifted.

 **A/N: So… Dumbledore's on the trail of the diadem, Barty Crouch, Jr. is now enemy number 2, and Severus is going to help Narcissa safely grow and birth a baby Draco.**

 **Review Prompt: Rabastan and Barty…. Good or evil? Or perhaps which is more which? What lengths will Rabastan go to on Cara's behalf, and what lengths will Barty go in the other direction?**

 **-C**


	24. From All Sides

Lily looked adorable when she slept, and James couldn't help himself. He touched her abdomen, knowing that inside her was a bundle of cells, of some indeterminate size, growing into their child. Lily and James were going to have a baby, and he was going to be a father, and he prayed that their child looked just like Lily.

Granted, he didn't think he had the strength of will to deny such a child anything, but he planned on spoiling any child he had rotten, anyway, so it probably wouldn't make too much of a difference.

He pressed his lips to her abdomen, wondering whether it would be a boy or a girl. They were supposed to find out soon. The appointment was on the calendar. James didn't care about the unimportant details like the appointment dates or measuring for a nursery or any of that. He wanted his child to be in his arms as soon as possible. He had to know what toys to start immediately purchasing for their child, and how he would hold the child, and what stories and songs he would share from his own childhood. He wanted to know how young he could buy the first toy broom, whether the cat and the child would get along, whether the kid would make a better Chaser or Keeper. Big picture questions.

Under his lips, Lily began to stir, and he smiled against her skin, eager to tell her all over again how much he loved her, how happy he was that they were pregnant and they were going to have a baby and they would have a child, a perfect little child.

"James?" she groaned. "What are you doing?"

"That's our baby in there," he whispered, touching her skin. "I'm saying hello."

"Again?"

James grinned and placed a flurry of kisses to her stomach, dancing all around her belly button. Lily's muscles tightened at each touch, and he felt a rush of pride that this was his life. Lily was his wife and this was their child and this was their house that they would raise that child in, and soon, he hoped, the war that threatened them all would be over.

"I have a really good feeling about this, love," he said, petting her skin, ignoring her snickering as she squirmed with her ticklishness. "Everything is going to work out beautifully. What are we going to name our baby, Lily?"

"I was thinking, if you don't mind, and if Sirius and Cate don't mind," Lily said haltingly, "I was thinking Catherine if it's a girl."

James smiled, kissing her skin.

"Perfect," he said eagerly. "And a boy?"

"Still tossing around ideas on that one, but it's…. Well, I'm thinking Harry, for the moment."

"Harry," James muttered against her skin. "Harry. Harry Potter. Harry Potter." He raised his eyebrows and lifted his head to grin at Lily. "Harry James Potter?" he offered hopefully.

Lily groaned and swatted at him playfully, but he could tell by the twitch of her lips that she liked the sound of it. Maybe she wasn't as keen on it as he was, but that was only to be expected. She would come around. She had before. She would again.

"If it's a girl," she said, forcing her lips into a frown, "we aren't using your name as a middle name."

"Damn," he sighed, resting his cheek on her abdomen. "You don't like Catherine James Potter?" Lily swatted his head again, lightly, and he laughed through his nose with pursed lips. "Nah, you're right, it's not the best flow. We'll think of something, love, if it comes to that." He pressed a kiss to her skin again. "I love you."

"Love you, too, you idiot."

/-/

After several long sips of tea, Albus set down his cup and said, "There was a ring. It is destroyed. I'm searching for the last one."

Andromeda nodded.

"I'll pass it along," she said solemnly.

Albus looked closely at the young woman's face, searching the particular expression, the signs of tiredness and melancholy. The weight of the deaths in her family was wearing her down, and Albus wondered how much worse shape Narcissa Malfoy and Sirius might be in. Surely her relatives closer to the problem were strained.

"I do want you to know," he said pointedly, "that when all is said and done, the stress on your family will not be over. It will change, but people at the forefront of history rarely have the chance to slip into the background when their chapter is over."

She smiled sadly and said, "I rather don't think that's history's fault. Anyway, I can't imagine Sirius wanting to be at the back of anything. Can you?"

With a soft roll of chuckles, Albus agreed with her. It would be very interesting to see where Sirius Black landed, when all was said and done.

/-/

The Order meeting was a nice change of pace, Remus thought, getting to see people he didn't usually see, like Sirius and Mad-Eye, who were always so busy that it seemed their paths never crossed. Remus wanted to tease Sirius about all the glamourous functions he'd been at, maybe make a joke about how Sirius's tasks were all fun and games, but when he saw his old friend, saw face-to-face how tired and hollow he looked, Remus decided it was better not to make jokes about that sort of thing, after all.

Meetings were a jolly thing when the Marauders and Lily first joined. People would bring food, they would have potluck feasts, and the Prewett twins would tell jokes to keep the mood from ever getting too dark. The tone had changed considerably since those days. They had lost too many people, some of them in dreadful ways, and some of them were living nightmares nearly every day.

Of course, Remus knew that things were no picnic for Sirius. Between losing his brother and his father, between having to marry Cara before he really knew her in order to save her life, having to move back into his childhood home and embrace everything he'd rejected, it was hardly surprising that Sirius looked as though he had aged ten years all at once.

Lily, though, Lily looked renewed, refreshed, as though a war hadn't been happening around her, as though she hadn't been fighting just as hard as the rest of them. She had always retained a kind of peace and happiness many of the others struggled to keep, but this was different.

Dumbledore lead them through several points on the agenda, Sirius mostly looking at his hands, Lily seeming to be bouncing out of her chair, and Remus wished he had more to give to the group. There were so many things he couldn't do, too many things he had no part in. He found Dorcas's work particularly interesting, ingratiating herself to society women and learning their husbands' movements and secrets. Sirius and Dorcas seemed to know different things, and neither of them appeared to know everything, but that made sense to Remus. School had taught him well enough that males and females often led entirely separate lives.

"Lily and James have some news for us," Dumbledore said, just when it was nearly time for people to return to their lives. "James."

Seeing people smile so vividly, so merrily, felt wrong, but Remus could feel his body loosen and relax as James placed his hand in Lily's. He used his free hand to adjust his glasses and he said, "We're very happy to announce that we're going to have a baby."

Several jaws dropped, and the Prewetts began to clap and whistle merrily. Remus found himself clapping, and saw the smile that lit up Sirius's eyes that brought back a small bit of the boy who had proposed they learn how to be Animagi to help Remus, to have adventures. The years seemed to fall away from his face, a new light in his eyes.

Someone suggested that they celebrate at the next meeting, a cake, a toast, perhaps news on the baby to be the end of every meeting so that they could go back into the world with some glimmer of hope to remind them of why they were all fighting.

Remus kissed Lily's cheek on his way out and said, "Take care of yourself, okay?"

"Of course," Lily said earnestly, pressing his hand. "And you take care of yourself, too, Remus. I want to see you smile more."

"I want all of us to smile more," he muttered, glancing at Sirius, whose face had dulled slightly from the initial news as he stood talking to James. Lily nodded knowingly, her brilliant green eyes darkening as she looked at Sirius.

/-/

Cara glanced at the clock and frowned. There shouldn't be anyone around to see her at this hour. Narcissa was having an appointment with her Healer and Sirius was doing something to do with the Order. She supposed it could always be Severus, but it seemed strange for him to drop by unannounced.

She smoothed her skirt before opening the door, and she backed up a step in surprise and confusion to see Barty Crouch, Jr. standing on the front stop, his hands casually in his pockets and his tongue lightly darting across his lower lip to wet it.

"Did you need something?" she said, well aware that she was being rude, but eager not to be alone with him, not after the scene he made at Lestrange Manor.

"I was hoping to have a word with you," he said, smiling at her. "If you aren't otherwise engaged."

She wasn't, and she knew she couldn't just leave him standing on the steps unceremoniously. But how could she invite him in without someone to help her? She wasn't even sure when Sirius would be home!

"Ah, come in," she said nervously. "Why don't you go up to the sitting room? I need to take care of something, but I'll be back."

Cara watched him go up to the second floor landing before she hurried down to the kitchen to catch her breath. She needed someone, and she wasn't sure who would be available.

"Kreacher," she said, and the elf poked his head out of his space in the boiler room. "Kreacher, I need you to do something very important for me."

"Yes, Mistress," he said, eyes wide and concerned with her anxious state.

"I need you to go to Severus Snape's house and bring him here," she said, wringing her hands. "And…and if he's not there, bring me my brother. Bring me Rabastan. Tell him I cannot be alone with him."

"Who, Mistress?"

"They'll know who I mean."

Kreacher said that he would do it, and he went away directly and Cara took a few deep breaths before hurrying up to the sitting room, finding Barty waiting, frowning thoughtfully at the table. Cara took the furthest seat from him and smiled tightly.

"What was it you wanted to see me about?" she said, gripping her hands together, hoping someone came soon.

Barty's tongue darted out to touch his lower lip again, and then he smiled at her and said, "I wanted to apologize for the other night. Narcissa was right, it was entirely unbecoming for me to be so open with my feelings so publically."

Cara wanted to shrink into the chair, but she couldn't. She had a reputation to maintain, even if only to attempt to have some dignity in her horror.

"Better not to speak them at all, then," she said coolly as she could, but her voice trembled slightly. He stood, smiling at her, pressing his hand into hers, and when she tried to pull her hand away, he grabbed it in both of his, and something flashed in his eyes.

"You have the most beautiful eyes," he said, and she thought of Sirius insisting that her eyes should have been gray, and Cara wanted to cry. She wanted to go back to being Catherine, with no last name or history, just someone lost, someone Sirius loved and someone who loved Sirius, without all the ceremony and baggage and fear.

Cara tried to back away, but he moved closer to her.

"I'm flattered," she lied, "but I really don't think this is appropriate. My husband—"

"You of all people know that the marriage vow is far from sacred," he said slyly. "What makes you think that you are the only one he touches?"

Cara went from being afraid to being furious, and she yanked her hand from his grasp, stumbling backward slightly as she stood, holding up her hand to hold him back as he approached her again.

"Don't," she seethed. "Don't you dare say things like that about Sirius. He's twice the man you could ever dream of being." Barty's nostrils twitched with irritation, but he continued to press himself toward her, seeing very plainly that he'd said entirely the wrong thing. "Don't come near me!" she cried.

Just as he was trying to reach for her face, the door to the sitting room opened violently and Rabastan stood there, eyes flashing.

"Take three paces back, Barty, if you know what's good for you," Rabastan said coolly.

Barty, like a small child about to be disciplined, did as he was bid, taking exactly three steps away from Cara, who felt an urge to rush him and hit him. Rabastan placed a cool hand on her shoulder to ascertain that she was well enough, and then he moved close to Barty, so close the younger man looked as though he might shrink several inches in fear alone.

In a low voice Cara almost couldn't be sure she heard fully, Rabastan said, "I think you need to consider very carefully that you are toying with the wife of one of the most dangerous men you will ever meet. You did not have the privilege of knowing Sirius Black in school, but I assure you, there is none but the Dark Lord that you should less want to anger. Also remember that Cara is my sister, and that if I ever find that you hurt her, and worse that you use magic to take advantage of her inherent weaknesses, I will personally make arrangements for the end of your family line. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

As Barty nodded, Cara suppressed a shudder. It had never even crossed her mind that Barty might use spells or potions to take advantage of her, should other methods not work, and the thought that he might have done such a thing had she not called for Rabastan made her feel slightly sick.

"Now," Rabastan said coolly, "I suggest you leave, and I suggest you don't come back to this house unless expressly invited by Sirius."

Barty left with only a small glance back at Cara on his way out. She was proud of herself that her knees did not give out until he had closed the door behind him. Rabastan caught her before she could truly fall, and helped her to a chair.

"I'll have another word with Bella," he said softly. "I'm not sure it will do any good, but I will try." He slipped his hand in hers.

"You'll stay until Sirius gets home?" she asked.

She'd never thought of Rabastan as affectionate, but she was glad now that he had some kind of ability to feel compassion.

"If you'd like."

After a long, heavy silence between them, Cara whispered, almost afraid of the answer, "Is Sirius really that dangerous?"

A small twitch at the corner of Rabastan's lips only made her more uneasy, but he said slowly, "He and Bella used to duel at parties, when they were bored. In the gardens, they would fight until wands were drawn. You've seen her work. She has no qualms with using whatever she knows. But there's something, I think, especially dangerous about Sirius because he has rules. He can do everything she does, could be everything she is, but if you ever got him angry enough to see him actually do it, I don't think even Bella could stop him."

He squeezed her hand.

"You don't have to worry about it," he said dryly, "but Merlin help the fools who think he's harmless or too noble to fear. Never forget, Cara, that the most dangerous blow is the one you turn your back to."

/-/

James handed Sirius a drink once Sirius was the last person left.

"I should get back to Cat," Sirius said, deflating slightly. James knew that it had nothing to do with Cara, and everything to do with the rest of the world waiting for him.

"Before you go," Lily said, placing her hand on Sirius's, "there's something we want to ask you. Now, we don't expect your answer right away, and we think you should talk to Cate as well, but we would really appreciate…." She hesitated and James nodded her on. "We would really be pleased if you both agreed to be our child's godparents."

Sirius blinked several times before his mouth started working soundlessly, his eyes seeming to contain some kind of struggle. James didn't know half of what his friend was up to, but he could guess that it was dangerous by that look. Perhaps he felt that there would be some kind of added conflict or danger, with Sirius as the godfather of the child. Perhaps the fact that Cara hadn't seen them since before her wedding mattered to Sirius, but it certainly didn't matter to Lily or James.

"Padfoot," James said firmly, "Lily said you can think this over, and we really mean that. But you aren't allowed to say no for stupid reasons. Ask yourself if you sound like Remus when he won't call himself human, and if you say yes, it's a stupid reason. And if it's about Cara not seeing us, don't worry about it. The fact is, there's no one either of us trust more with our child than my brother and his wife."

The arguments that had built up in Sirius's face did not melt away. In fact, they seemed to solidify, to gather into the center and fester there. James was almost worried that Sirius was in some kind of physical pain.

And then Sirius began to cry.

James was taken aback. He'd never seen his friend like this, never seen him broken down. Sirius's body was trembling violently, and he reached out for Lily, who wrapped him up in a hug, muttering something to him that James couldn't hear. James simply sat in astonishment as Sirius shook his head and sobbed to Lily that he couldn't do it, that he just couldn't do it and she had to understand. James certainly didn't understand.

"You can do it," Lily said sternly. "And you will. I said you could think it over; I didn't say that you could say no." He laughed weakly. "Sirius, we love you, and we know that you will take care of our child. I know that you're under a great strain right now, and I understand. But all I'm asking of you is that you and Cara love our baby, from however far away, until such a time as you can be free again. And I'm quite insisting, actually, because I think it might be grounding for you, in all this mess, to have another thing to love."

Sirius wiped his eyes, nodded, and said, "I'm sorry. I'm just… I'm so tired, Lily. I'm just so tired. I look at me and don't see me anymore, and I just…"

"I know, Sirius. I know. Go home to Cate. Tell her the news. And for the love of god, smile when you say it, will you?"

 **A/N: I'm really excited. For obvious reasons. Many things are happening, all of them exciting. Also, the single most important line for the upcoming ten chapters was in this chapter and I forgot it was here and when I was editing I was like, "OMG, that was amazing," and while some of you might like the line, you've got no clue. ;) Not yet.**

 **Review Prompt: What's your favorite plotline at the moment? Barty's creepy pursuit of Cara? Lily and James's baby? The Horcrux Hunt? Sirius in pureblood society? So many options, so many threads to tie up. OH and let's not forget Narcissa's fraught pregnancy and Severus playing Healer.**

 **-C**


	25. One Rainy Night

Severus stirred his tea thoughtfully as he waited to meet with Dumbledore.

When Sirius Black learned, in the course of his buttering up of Horace Slughorn, that the Potions Master was retiring, the Dark Lord saw an opportunity to place one of his followers at Hogwarts. Although Severus was the obvious choice, as Black had pointed out, Bellatrix did argue that he would not be trusted by Dumbledore.

"Dumbledore," Sirius had said softly, "is a man who believes in second chances. He believes that people should be given every opportunity to change their ways. I fully believe that he would cautiously accept Severus Snape into the fold, with the understanding that trust would take time. But with Dumbledore, it truly can be earned."

And so here Severus was, waiting for Dumbledore to finish an interview with someone who was apparently trying to get a Divination post at the school. Severus had very little patience for Divination, and he had a feeling that Dumbledore felt much the same, but Dumbledore was a patient man, and so he could sit through the farce of an interview and that was that. Severus only hoped that it didn't take long, as the Dark Lord was expecting him, and the last thing Severus needed was to anger the Dark Lord.

/-/

After half an hour of pretending to be interested in all the foibles of pureblood society, Sirius caught Dorcas's eye, and they both quickly looked away and focused on the first person they caught sight of to avoid seeming too friendly, for her safety. It happened that Sirius's sight fell first on Rabastan Lestrange, who seemed to be rather interested in catching Sirius's attention, as it happened.

"Cara wouldn't tell me why you were around the other day," Sirius said softly, glancing out at the rain as it splattered on the windowpanes. "But I gather it had something to do with a certain Barty Crouch."

Rabastan hummed as he drank some of his wine. He set the glass down on a passing floating tray and said, "As it happens, yes. I threatened his life and limb, that sort of thing, but I don't think it will stop him from flirting. Perhaps it will stop him from trying to use magic on her, if that's any small comfort."

"If it doesn't," Sirius said softly, "Kreacher knows where I'm keeping my special stash of antidotes I've had whipped up. If you ever think she needs one, he can bring you the whole collection."

It was strange, talking to Rabastan like equals, especially about Cara. After all, Rabastan had been the trigger that started the horrible process of her memories returning, of their beautiful simplicity becoming the mess they were living now.

After a quick clearing of his throat, Rabastan leaned in closer and said, "One thing that would help, you know, is if she got pregnant. I believe we could get the Dark Lord to expressly forbid contact with her, then. For protection, you know."

Sirius wrinkled his nose and said, "If she were pregnant, I think Bella would call off the whole thing. I doubt she'd want to risk harming the Black heir whilst in the womb."

His memory flashed back to a brief thing Narcissa had mentioned in passing, that she was concerned about some of the suggestions of her Healers, and something Snape had once mentioned to Sirius about Barty's unusual interest in Narcissa's reproductive health.

"Damn," he muttered, glancing around. "Rabastan, when do you think the last time a pureblood killed another pureblood for inheritance purposes was?"

"Officially?" Rabastan asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Maybe a hundred years ago. Unofficially? Probably half the room would say you killed your father for that reason. Or that Regulus tried to kill you for that reason, so you killed him first. You know that's the first thought for why someone has died. Why?"

"No reason," Sirius lied. "Just…just something reminded me of it and I…."

He glanced over at Barty, who was watching Cara, very obviously trying to find a way to get closer to her without being noticed. Rabastan saw it too, and he excused himself, picking up another glass of wine from a second floating tray. The two men parted, Sirius going to Cara, Rabastan going to intercept Barty. Sirius really didn't care what his brother-in-law did to the man.

As far as Sirius was concerned, all punishment was deserved.

/-/

When Severus was finally called in, he was beginning to feel a prickling of nerves in his hands. He contemplated putting up a base screen of Occlumency, but decided against it. If Albus Dumbledore wanted to see in his mind, wanted to know his intentions, all he could see would solidify that he could be trusted, and where his loyalties really were. To hide would only lead to questions that could not be answered easily.

The usually serene old man was visibly disturbed when Severus entered, and Severus wondered what could have happened while he was waiting. He was told to sit, and he did. He folded his hands, and he waited for Dumbledore to say something.

"Severus," Dumbledore said, sighing, "let us dispense with formalities. You are extensively qualified for the position, and you are the only one who applied with your particular qualifications. There is something you need to do as well, I'm afraid. Something troubling has just happened."

"Oh?"

Dumbledore nodded.

"There has been a rather strange occurrence," he said. "You see, Severus, true prophecies are very rare. And prophets capable of producing them regularly are even more rare. And while I do not believe that Miss Trelawney is one such Seer, I do believe that she has just had a very real prophecy. And it is about the one who will destroy Lord Voldemort."

Severus didn't realize he was holding his breath until his chest began to ache, and he let it out.

"I see," he said, slightly skeptical, but Dumbledore was no fool. If he believed this to be a true prophecy, then surely it would be. "And what do you expect me to do about it?"

Dumbledore smiled, his blue eyes twinkling almost with mischief as he sat forward.

"My dear man, I believe it would be rather useful for you to…relay a message. I trust it would not be too unbelievable for you to be listening at doorframes?"

Severus smiled knowingly, but he didn't like this. He didn't like it at all.

/-/

Although Dorcas Meadows was a woman with a knack for reading people. It was part of the reason Albus Dumbledore had sent her in among the snakes, as it were. Especially with people who did not show their thoughts and feelings as a course of habit, it was important to be able to read the subtleties of the guarded human face and discern its mysteries.

The struggle she was currently having was not anything to do with her usual focus of the wives of pureblood society, however. She had long since given up on trying to learn anything of interest – either for her or for Dumbledore – from trying to engage Sirius's wife. For one, Cara was a nervous, closed person by nature, but Sirius did not seem to share his more secret activities with her. For another, Sirius was especially protective of his wife, and particularly when Dorcas came near to her, he would slip over and steal Cara away.

Of course, he knew Dorcas's mission. It wasn't exactly top-secret in Order meetings. But what made Dorcas uncomfortable was that not only was she not fully privy to his mission, he so easily hid everything. The person he was in the Order before he married Cara was completely different from the person he was at meetings now. And what was more, the person he was in both time frames was totally different from the person he was in pureblood society. She wondered which was him, or if Sirius was actually a different man from all the personas, and how could they trust such a man? How could she? How could Dumbledore?

She found his wife's behavior toward the advances of Barty Crouch, Jr. to be especially interesting. Not only was Cara Black anxious and almost afraid of Crouch, but Sirius was not the only one keen to keep him away from her. Severus Snape, Narcissa Malfoy, and even Rabastan Lestrange often stepped in when Crouch managed to catch Madam Black alone, and Rabastan and Sirius both seemed to lose some of their well-bred calm in regard to Crouch's behavior.

"Miss Meadows," the cool, calm voice of Madam Selwyn, Cara's mother. "You are a clever woman, I think."

"You flatter me, Madam," Dorcas said, bowing her head with deference.

"Walk with me," she said as Bellatrix's gaze landed on them for a moment.

The two women crossed away from the back corner, toward the gardens. Madam Selwyn waited for Bellatrix to return to her whispering with Antonin Dolohov before she said, "You are familiar, I think, with the stories of Cara's conception and early life. I fear the rumors are quite well-known by now."

"Yes, ma'am."

"And I suspect you wonder how one of the few happily married women in our world has an affair, mothers a child, and allows the wishes of others to control that child's existence?"

Dorcas said nothing. It was not common for women like Madam Selwyn to confess their sins, but perhaps the weight was too much, given Cara's new lease in life. Perhaps that Dorcas was not one of the more insidious women, no obvious ulterior motives.

"It happens much like that," Madam Selwyn said, nodding toward where her daughter was being led nervously away from a rigid Barty Crouch, Jr., Sirius seething. "You see, my dear, if a woman's husband has less power than the man pursuing a woman, there is no real question of how the pursuit must end. My husband was diligent and attentive, but I think you knew Rudolphous and Rabastan's father."

With a hum and a nod, Dorcas confirmed that she recalled what a forceful, demanding, cruel man Mr. Lestrange could be.

"Cara is very lucky in one respect," Madam Selwyn continued. "The man she has married is intelligent, wealthy, powerful in many ways. And he has very powerful allies, if you take my meaning. The trust of great men, as I understand it. I know that no one thinks of me anymore, not now that my daughter is not in my care and they have no use for me, but I know. And Bellatrix may think she will get her way, that her backing of Barty will lead to the Dark Lord sanctioning Barty's behavior, but she is wrong. I believe that if the Dark Lord had to choose who to keep happy, he would take Sirius over Bellatrix.

"You control a man like Sirius," she whispered, "when you control his wife. By guaranteeing her, he secures Sirius. Do you see?"

"Yes, I think I do," Dorcas said softly, feeling even more troubled with the whole matter. "But, forgive me, why are you telling me this?"

"They think I don't see, but I do. I see everything," Madam Selwyn whispered, glancing over at Bellatrix, then at Narcissa, then at Sirius. "The Black family, Miss Meadows, is not such a great puzzle. There were the gentle souls who bowed their heads and did their duty, there were those who left, and there was Bellatrix. And the only one to fear is Bella."

"But Sirius didn't leave," Dorcas said. "He came back. He came back to us, for your daughter."

"Control a man's wife and you control a man," the woman repeated eagerly. "Do you see? I see."

Dorcas wasn't sure she understood what the woman was so anxiously trying to have her perceive, or what she wanted Dorcas to do with all of this information. Whatever it was, there was something she couldn't grasp, and she didn't like not knowing, because it could so easily be the end of her.

/-/

"Tell me again what it is you have heard, Severus," Albus Dumbledore prompted. He knew that the young man was anxious about feeding such a story to Lord Voldemort, and for good reason. Without a true memory to present, it might not appear credible, but Albus thought that the fear would take over and Tom would take it at face value. After all, better safe than sorry.

Severus cleared his throat and said, "I have heard a prophecy given by a Seer to Albus Dumbledore, which proclaims the destruction of the Dark Lord. It said that he would be vanquished by one new to parenthood, one with pure blood, young in years, whose defiance of the Dark Lord is their greatest occupation. He will be stabbed in the back by this one."

"Very good, Severus, you have touched on all points."

"Professor," Severus said, his neck stiff, perhaps still anxious about referring to Albus as a colleague rather than a student addressing his headmaster. "What does it mean? Who does it refer to?"

"Well, apart from knowing quite well to whom it does not refer," Albus said, with a tight smile, "it is very difficult to say. You, of course, are quite incapable of fitting the description, but the Longbottoms are with child, as are the Potters, as are the Malfoys. Andromeda has been a mother too long to be the one prophesied."

"So why do you want me to pass this along? Do you think he will know?"

Albus stood, pacing across to the window, then pacing back to his chair, but not sitting down.

"As I told you before, Severus, prophecy is quite rare. There is much we do not know about prophecy, but one thing has become quite clear to me in my limited studies of the subject. Prophecy is half predestined, half choice. Our knowledge of future events is cryptic, but our interpretation of them leads to their truth."

Severus nodded and said, "You want to see who he believes it to be about. And what if he thinks it is about…"

Albus noted Severus's hesitation. There was obviously some concern that Sirius and Cara might conceive, and that it would cause suspicion that would be detrimental to their cause.

"But I believe he will be concerned about that, Severus," Albus said softly. "I believe he will be very concerned that Cara Black not become pregnant, because who better to betray him, who better placed to destroy him than Sirius Black? He wants to trust Sirius. Do you see?"

It seemed that Severus did understand, and his black eyes glowed with sudden satisfaction at the realization of how many problems it could avoid.

"And if he decides it is James Potter?" Severus said softly. "What then?"

"We will cross that bridge when it comes, Severus. For now, it is important that he keep Sirius from becoming a father, and that he continues to trust him. We must keep our options open, Severus."

The young man nodded and said that he would pass along the message to the Dark Lord. He bowed his head, thanked Albus for the employment opportunity, and turned to go.

"Oh, Severus," Albus said softly when the thin, pale fingers touched the door handle. Severus paused. "There may be something at the school we will be looking for, if you understand me. It may be that I require your assistance further. I trust I can rely on you to be ready to undertake any number of tasks."

A small muscle on Severus's jawline twitched, but he nodded. The reminder that Lily's husband might be in danger, and by extension, Lily, was a powerful one, which was why Albus had made a point of listing the possible people referred to in the prophecy for Severus's benefit.

"Have a wonderful night, Severus," Albus said softly, watching the young man leave in his stiff, stalking manner, his cloak billowing behind him dramatically. The students would no doubt be frightened of him, but there was no question of his skill, or his usefulness.

For the greater good, Albus told himself again. For the greater good.

/-/

Sirius slipped his robes off, watching Cara as she unpinned her hair with shaking hands in the moonlight. He wanted to tell her that he could get Barty Crouch to leave her alone, but it seemed that he and Rabastan had limited power without approval. The problem was, Sirius knew who he had to bring the problem to, who the approval had to come from, and it made him sick to think of asking Voldemort for more things. The more he owed that monster, the more that could be asked of him, and Sirius already sometimes thought his hands were slick with blood. In quiet moments of solitude, he felt like the monster he was fighting and he wondered how Cara could stand to touch him.

"How are the plans for the house coming?" he asked lightly, unbuttoning his shirt and walking up behind her, leaning in to let his ears touch her lips. "Any brilliant insights?"

"I think we should revamp the boiler room," Cara said nervously. "I mean, none of the pipes need work, but Kreacher could do with more of his own place. What he has now is a bit of a hovel, and we can give him some comforts without giving him clothes."

Sirius sighed. Part of him wished he could free the damn elf, not because Kreacher wasn't be a very good servant, but because he was just such a reminder of everything Sirius hated about the dreaded childhood in Grimmauld Place.

"Whatever you want, darling," he said, kissing the shell of her ear. "There is nothing I care about except that it changes and that you get what you desire." He tossed the shirt off and pulled her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you, you know that?"

"Of course I do," she said, touching his arms delicately and leaning back, resting her head on his shoulder. "And I love you, Sirius. More than anything in the world."

 **A/N: So… PROPHECY! We're really getting into the end game now, and so many possible killers. Given how weird I'm going, let's be real, it could be anyone who destroys the Dark Lord.**

 **Except Severus. It can't be Severus.**

 **Review Prompt: You get two choices (or both if you really want). Thoughts on Madam Selwyn? Also, who d'you think I'm going to select as the person to kill Voldemort? I'm rubbing my hands in glee awaiting your thoughts.**

 **-C**


	26. Gender Politics

Narcissa took deep, calming breaths as she waited for Severus to bring her a fresh set of replacement potions. Lucius was in his study, yelling at someone, and she pretended that she couldn't hear, but she was trying to remember every word.

Someone, it seemed, had been apprehended and was going to be taken to Azkaban. A trial might happen, but it was a formality. Judging by what Lucius was screaming, whoever it was certainly did deserve to be punished for the crimes in question. The more she learned, the more she could pass on to others later. Particularly Severus, when he arrived.

The door to Lucius's study opened with violent force, and out stumbled Antonin Dolohov looking pale, his lips pursed with thinly veiled fury. Narcissa looked down at her sketchbook, pretending to draw as he walked past her. Although she might have gotten more information from him, there was really no reason to arouse suspicion in either her husband or Dolohov.

She glanced at the clock on the wall.

Twenty minutes left. She would have to sketch something, after all.

/-/

"Harry James Potter," James cooed, touching his wife's stomach. "It doesn't even seem real yet, does it? Our baby. Our son. August is forever, Lily. I want him now."

Lily rolled her eyes. She'd stopped bothering, telling her husband that their son couldn't come now because he wouldn't be ready yet. With a normal person she could lay out logical reasons why it couldn't be so, and that would just be that. With James, however, she had to remember that he had the emotional maturity of a seven-year-old when it came to things that excited him, and she told herself that she was lucky to have a husband so excited about his child that he couldn't be sensible about the matter rather than someone who didn't really care or didn't really want to be a parent.

"August isn't so far," Lily said, resting her head on his shoulder. "And who knows? Maybe the world will be different by then. It would be nice to bring a child into a world with peace instead of this mess we live in right now."

James's excitement dampened slightly and his lips twitched into a tight, wan smile.

"I think people have been saying that since the dawn of time, love." He kissed her hand with tenderness. "But I guess it's about time it happened, isn't it?"

Closing her eyes, Lily leaned back against the sofa, sinking into it, imagining a world where Sirius could be with them all the time, where Remus didn't have to be afraid, where Peter hadn't betrayed them all, where little Harry Potter could live a normal, happy, blessed life surrounded by people who loved him and devoid of the chaos of war.

But perhaps James was right. Perhaps no matter what she changed, no matter how reality shifted to suit her fantasies, there would be no way to truly shelter her son from the heaviness of these struggles. After all, they hadn't come up overnight, and even when the war ended, it was unlikely that things would suddenly become harmonious and accepting of all. Change took time. It was a painful, continual, extensive process.

And many more people would die senseless deaths before the world reached a place where solving problems didn't need violence.

Perhaps they would never reach it.

/-/

Severus carefully replaced the potions in the box as they sat in the locked study, careful to put up charms so that Lucius could not listen in on them. Narcissa related to Severus all that she had heard in the argument that he had with Dolohov, although it did not have names, but it was enough to confirm a suspicion Severus had upon arriving.

"He's speaking of Igor Karkaroff," he said softly. "I suspect Alastor Moody finally caught up with him."

"Why is Lucius so upset with Dolohov?" she asked in hushed tones.

He hummed, closing the box and carefully storing the bad vials in the case he had come with.

"Dolohov and Karkaroff were working together," Severus said. He pressed his fingers together as she poured them tea. "There are several possibilities. There is a possibility that Dolohov will be held responsible, and there is a great possibility that Karkaroff's arrest will lead to Dolohov's eventual capture, through cowardice or otherwise. Karkaroff has never been the strongest-willed among us."

This news seemed to bother Narcissa, who nodded absently, touching her temple.

"It's a son," she said eventually, after Severus had consumed half of his tea. "We haven't chosen a name yet. There is some argument over which side of the family we will consider names from. To be honest, I don't want to name him after anyone. Perhaps follow a pattern, but I want my son to be unique, separate from all the mistakes of our fathers."

"Or sisters," he added slyly.

His mind was on his own new responsibilities, and how being a teacher and being a Death Eater and being a spy would strain his patience, and his sense of balance. But then, Sirius Black seemed capable of handling the enormous stress he was under, and Severus could do anything Black was capable of.

"I suppose," she said, raising the cup to her chin, "that when all is said and done, I want him to have a life with some semblance of peace."

"First," Severus said, setting down his own finished teacup, "we have to make certain that he has a life at all. June is not tomorrow, Narcissa. Do not forget that there is still much to do."

/-/

Cara lowered her head to rest on Sirius's chest. She liked when they had these moments alone together, mornings where none of his commitments pulled him away from her. She had grown used to the sight of his mark, and he no longer bothered hiding it because she had worked on not flinching at the sight of it.

With trembling fingers, she traced her fingers long the fine, soft hairs on his arm. He kissed the top of her head.

"One left," Sirius said.

He'd been saying that frequently, ever since Narcissa passed on the news from Dumbledore that he had destroyed a ring that was another Horcrux, that there was likely just one left.

"It's probably going to take the longest," Cara said with forced levity. "But we shouldn't think about it unless we get information that we're supposed to be looking for something in particular, Sirius. You know that. It's dangerous."

She could hear the smirk in his voice as he said, "Distract me, then."

Cara laughed, lifting her head slightly, turning it so her chin rested on his chest as she looked up at him, grinning.

"How exactly do you think I should do that, then?" she teased, tracing her fingers up his arm slowly.

"Surprise me," he whispered, closing his eyes.

/-/

When Severus left, Narcissa calmly poured herself another cup of tea, contemplating calling for Dobby to get a few more biscuits. She'd been craving chocolate for a week, but it was a bit more indecorous to ask for chocolates than to simply ask for a few more biscuits.

Before she could decide to ask, however, Lucius swept into the room unannounced and gave her a very severe look she supposed was meant to make her feel smaller than him. Narcissa pursed her lips around the edge of her teacup to stop herself from laughing at it. She knew full well that men need to feel important, in charge within their own household, but she knew where the balance of power was in their family. She was in charge of the legacy of the family – offspring. And she was in charge of his sexual pleasure if he wanted to avoid scandal.

Narcissa, unlike so many pureblood women, had told her husband simply and plainly that if he ever had an affair and she found out – which she would – then she would use the many means at her disposal and ruin him. She did believe that he loved her, and she did believe that he cared about her, but she knew enough that this did not necessarily equate to faithfulness with men like Lucius, and she made it clear from the out what she was going to stake for that faithfulness.

She wasn't worried that he would risk it. He could be a silly man, but he wasn't stupid.

"I don't like that you lock yourself away I here with him," Lucius said sternly.

She raised a gracefully arched eyebrow and set down her teacup, fighting with every fiber of her being the laugh bubbling up in her chest.

"Severus is a friend, Lucius," she said coolly. "Of yours as well as mine, or so I thought. Do you believe that either he or I would behave with anything less than the greatest of decorum?"

"No, it's nothing like that," he said quickly, knowing how she felt about such matters and not wishing to upset her over it.

Narcissa tilted her head thoughtfully, although she had prepared this speech at the outset of her betrayal of his work, and she had amended it with time as their circumstances had changed.

"If it is a matter of his blood, Lucius, I shouldn't think it would matter. If it does not matter to the Dark Lord, it certainly doesn't matter to me." Lucius blanched slightly, and Narcissa pressed the point further. "Darling, we are having a child. Severus has just been appointed to Hogwarts, and you know as well as I how long those positions can last. It is more than likely that he will still be there when our child is at school. It is prudent to make nice where we can, as you well know."

Lucius's nostrils flared, but she could see all of his arguments and protestations coming unraveled in the air between them, in the melting of his icy gray eyes. She held up her hand to him and he came to sit beside her, kissing it gently. He always softened at reminders of their son, and she only hoped that Severus's help would lead to a successful birth in the end. The last thing she needed was to be declared to be effectively barren. How could she hold the moral high ground then, and hold her husband to her faithfully?

And Narcissa would never admit it to anyone, not even Sirius or Andromeda, but her greatest fear was that Lucius would ever feel that he needed someone other than her for any reason. It wasn't morality so much as her need to be desired and loved that caused her to create such harsh stipulations on him.

Because she loved him, and she loved him dearly, and he was all she had.

/-/

Cara went to Lestrange Manor on her brother's invitation, although she had never been especially comfortable there. The very fact that Rabastan had asked her to come to see him was odd, because he hardly ever asked anything of her. She supposed it was important, perhaps something to do with some upcoming party or event that they would both be at. He'd wanted her advice on cufflinks at the last one, saying he wanted a woman's opinion or two before he wore them somewhere Miss Greengrass would be.

When she arrived, the house-elf let her in and told her that she would be attended to in the second floor sitting room. She went there and folded her hands in her lap, managing to sit with serenity even Narcissa would have approved of for several minutes before she couldn't stand the stillness and she began to twist her hands as always. She planned to stop when her brother entered, but when the door opened, it was not Rabastan who came through.

Barty Crouch, Jr. walked in, his tongue darting to his lower lip as she stood and crossed to the far side of the sitting room, as far as she could get away from him. She glanced out the window with hopes that Rabastan would be on the lawn, but it was empty. She could feel her heart pounding, but she knew she had to think of something. And she was all alone.

"Madam Black," he said, with a sort of forced breathlessness that made her furious. "You look…exquisite, forgive me. Rodolphus is occupied at the moment."

"I am here to see Rabastan," she said coldly.

"He is not here," Barty said with a small frown, but Cara was not stupid. Someone, like Bella, had lured her there under false pretenses. "Would you care for something to drink?"

"I'm not stupid enough to drink something you've poured or prepared, Crouch," she said, as icily as she could manage with her hands shaking. She glanced out the window again.

Almost as soon as she looked away from him, she felt a strange calm overcome her, like someone had massaged all the fear and worry and panic out of her body. She could hardly recall that she had been upset at all, and when she turned to see Barty pointing his wand at her, she wasn't alarmed by it.

A little voice in the back of her mind was telling her to cross to him, and she did move forward a few steps, feeling a pleasant detachment from her body. But then that voice told her to kiss him and she vaguely realized that something was wrong. The voice continued to insist, but she could recall somewhere in the recesses of her mind that this was something she had to fight against. There was the practicing she'd done with Severus, and she focused on not doing what the voice asked of her.

So she stayed rooted to the spot, dizzy, even as she saw frustration in Crouch's eyes, as she saw beads of sweat forming at the point where straw-colored hair met the skin of his forehead.

Cara shivered as she continued to refuse to move, digging her fingers so tightly into her palms that she was beginning to feel the pain of the nails in her skin. For good measure, when she felt the voice being pushed out of her mind, she took a few stumbling steps backward and felt a surge of triumph at the astonishment in his face.

"Did you really think," she said viciously, "that after what they did to my mind, I would go without taking steps to protect myself? Weakness of magic does not equate to weakness of mind. Leave me alone, Crouch," she said sternly. "You're wasting your time and energy, and I doubt the Dark Lord would think that the best use of you is to be thwarted in courting the wife of another of his loyal followers. Do you? Or shall we ask him?"

His eyes widened, but he said nothing, hurrying away, no doubt to scurry away and report to Cara's sister-in-law that Cara was no longer the mental weakling she had been before. And although she was proud, she felt horrifically spent. She waited for Barty to leave before she collapsed to the ground, just hoping that no one came looking for her before she felt well enough to leave. She didn't want to meet Bellatrix in this condition.

/-/

Not two days after Severus's visit telling her that what she had heard was Dolohov and Lucius discussing Karkaroff's arrest, Narcissa was reading the newspaper and learned that Dolohov himself had been arrested, charged, and taken to Azkaban with a supposed trial. She suspected that it had been more of a brief hearing to put something down in writing than an actual trial. Barty Crouch, Sr. was looking for any and every scapegoat, hungry for power and eager to get there. She wondered if he had any idea that his only son was a very loyal servant of the Dark Lord. She wondered what he would do if he found out.

Narcissa smirked, turning over the newspaper and thinking that if their little problem persisted, she had a very good idea of how to fix it. But then, she had never really expected the intimidating shows of Rabastan and Sirius to scare away little Barty. He knew Sirius wouldn't do him any great harm without permission from the Dark Lord, and likewise with Rabastan. And that was the problem with serving a higher master.

But Narcissa had no master but her own conscience, and she knew enough to send just the right anonymous letter to alert the elder Mr. Crouch to the unfortunate truth.

Her lips twisted into a smirk as she set down the newspaper, already composing the letter in her mind. It was less a question of if than of when, and she didn't bother hiding the smirk as Lucius came into the dining room, raising an eyebrow as he sat across from her.

"What is so amusing?" he asked, motioning for the paper, which she levitated to him across the table.

"Oh, it's really nothing," she said, using her loftiest voice, the one she knew unnerved him when she used it to speak about serious things. "Do you remember when you and Dolohov had that terrible row? When he's in prison now. Isn't it funny how those things work? I suppose you told him he'd done something stupid and he didn't listen, did he?"

Lucius snatched up the paper at her words, reading for himself the news she had just related to him. Narcissa hid a smile behind her water goblet as she watched his already pale complexion go considerably more pale at the words in the paper. Narcissa dabbed at her lips delicately, watching him drop the paper with trembling hands.

"We say nothing about that discussion, Narcissa," he said sternly. "You didn't mention it to Snape?"

"What interest would it be to Severus?" she said, setting her napkin down on the table and standing, touching her stomach to remind him of their child and keep him from erupting. His eyes did soften at the gesture. "No, I don't know who I would tell anyway. I'll be bathing, Lucius. Enjoy your breakfast."

He said nothing as she left the room, perhaps too afraid to make her stay.

 **A/N: OKAY, so. Extra chapter…. Here's why.**

 **MissRoseAlanaHorton and I had our stampcard thing going, right? Well this quarter's cards have come to an end with the solstice, and we have a WINNER. So I'm posting an extra chapter to announce that.**

 **AND THE WINNER IS:** _ **gr8rockstarrox**_ **, one of two readers who reviewed all three stories, and faithfully! We'll be in touch about prizes.**

 **If you want to win awesome prizes from us…. Fresh cards start NOW. You'll have until autumn solstice to fill a card or two by reviewing this story, my story** _ **Craving Comfort**_ **, and MissRoseAlanaHorton's** _ **The Dark Lord's Rose**_ **. The other two stories are WAY longer than this one is of yet, and if you've yet to check them out, there's PLENTY of chapters to do catch-up reviews on to start filling out stampcards. 20 reviews fill a card, so you could fill 7 cards just doing catch-up reviews on CC.**

 **Remember, we occasionally do special weeks where if you review all THREE stories, you get a bonus stamp, so keep your eyes peeled for that!**

 **For more questions on rules and prizes, contact either of us.**

 **REVIEW PROMPT: So, big chapter for Narcissa and Cara, and a dash of Lily. They're very different women using their distinct skills to survive in a terrible world. Who would you say has the most power or strength, and why?**

 **-C**


	27. Brewing

Albus had not spent much time in Albania before, but he had never struggled to find people and places he needed in any country, no matter how familiar he was with the place on arrival. Albania proved to be no exception.

After so much time, it was not easy to find information that was connected to Tom Riddle. Especially as Tom had come as a handsome, charming young Englishman. It was hardly a descriptor that was definitive in yielding accurate memory of him.

But as it so often was when looking for Muggles who had come across wizards, local legend was the greatest aid that Albus had. He tracked down a village in the Albanian forest, deep in and away from civilization. Such an Englishman was rumored to have been in the village around when Tom was there, and a mysterious death or two had occurred around the time, attributed to dissatisfaction with a local marriage that had gone against local custom and religious practice.

What was especially interesting to Albus was the ancient story the elders in the village told him about a strange woman who had come from very far to the village, brought great wisdom and beauty with her, and a healing touch like none one had seen. She was reclusive, it was said, and lived in the wood apart from the village as though waiting for someone to find her. When a man did come to find her, however, it was not a lover as the villagers expected, but someone who came and killed her in jealous anger. Their bodies were found in the wood, a wound through her torso, and his sword through his own torso. They were buried, the woman with respect, the man because it was not good to leave a body above ground where wildlife might be drawn to it, and near to the village where livestock and young children might be carried away by beasts with a taste for human flesh.

Albus visited the site where the murder had supposedly taken place and could certainly feel magic, much newer than the time of Helena Ravenclaw, coursing through the area, Dark magic. He touched a hollowed tree and felt the power of it, but nothing was in the tree.

And what this told Albus, he realized as he looked around at the trees that had centuries of stories to tell if only they could speak, was that Tom must have taken it back with him when he came back to England.

But where did it go?

/-/

Sirius's neck tightened as he watched Voldemort torture some lower-level Death Eater Sirius could never remember the name of. Something very unusual, even for a wizard. A big, blond man. Everyone around the table seemed to be holding their breath, and for good reason.

Unlike with Karkaroff and Dolohov, who had gotten themselves captured, which could always be a temporary state of Voldemort could make a deal with the Dementors, the latest two to end up on the wrong side of Mad-Eye's wand were now dead. Rosier and Wilkes went down fighting, Sirius supposed to their credit, and he'd already seen the chunk of flesh Rosier had taken from Mad-Eye's face before he died. Mad-Eye was a bit pleased with the crater by his nose, which Sirius thought was gross, but then, the man was pleased to lose legs and eyes and all manner of things as long as it is a productive loss.

"Remove him," Voldemort said to Crouch, who was at the end of the table.

Sirius's jaw twitched as he watched Crouch remove the blond man from the room, thinking of how to get Crouch to leave Cara alone without bringing the matter to Voldemort.

"Severus," Voldemort said sharply, and they all turned their attention to Snape, who nearly always sat with incredibly straight posture. "What is Dumbledore up to these days?"

"Specifics are difficult to come by as yet, my Lord," Snape said, his silky voice filling the silent room. "He has not spent a great deal of time at the school since hiring me. He has been travelling, although where or why is not clear. I do not think it has to do with his responsibilities for the school, so I have to assume it has to do with his band of resistance fighters."

Bella cackled at the mention of the Order, as she always did, but she took nothing seriously in life except for Voldemort. When he held up one boney hand, she silenced immediately, staring up at him with shining eyes, expecting some kind of wisdom or something to come from him.

"Sirius," he said, the whole room now looking at Sirius, "do you know anything of these travels?"

Sirius really didn't know, although he could have made a guess.

"All that has been said at meetings is that he is abroad," Sirius said slowly, "so he is either looking for something or someone, perhaps trying to liaise with groups abroad for support. It is also possible that he is doing something in his capacities with the Ministry. He has been known to travel for matters of the Wizengamot."

Lucius leaned forward and said, "My Lord, I do not believe it is related to the Wizengamot. Based on meeting cycles, it is most unusual that he would be gone at this point in time."

Sirius shrugged, which didn't seem odd coming from him as it would have from anyone else at the table. He'd been very careful to be slightly cavalier about what he didn't know, about the meetings in general. The less Voldemort expected from him in regard to devotion and ecstasy, the better.

Voldemort nodded thoughtfully and probably was expecting that Dumbledore was attempting to liaise abroad. There were all manner of groups Voldemort had reached out to abroad, and it was little wonder that Dumbledore would try to reach them as well, as with the werewolves in England.

"Very well," he said. "Yaxley. How are your pets at the Ministry?"

Sirius and Severus exchanged a glance before turning to look at Yaxley like everyone else in the room. They could only hope that Dumbledore found whatever he was looking for, and quickly.

/-/

When Albus arrived back in the country, the first thing he heard about was the deaths of Evan Rosier and Cassius Wilkes. Alastor would no doubt wish to regale him with the fabulous tale of his triumph, and Albus supposed he would have to clear a space in his calendar.

"Was your trip successful?" Severus asked when called in, standing rather than taking the chair offered him by Albus.

"Indeed, it was productive," Albus said, "although not as productive as I would have preferred. I have more clues to puzzle through, but no object to show for the journey, no. You have relayed the message?"

"Yes. Although he has not yet summoned me or anyone else individually to speak on the matter. I suspect it is only a matter of time."

"Time," Albus said softly, touching his fingers to a small hourglass on his desk. "A dangerous thing to pin hopes on."

Severus said nothing, perhaps balking at the idea of carrying out some kind of philosophical discussion.

Albus's worry was that the children of the persons in question were all due over the summer. By the end of the year, if the prophecy was to be about anyone they were expecting it to be about, Albus would have to have found and destroyed the diadem, and arranged how they were going to finish off Tom Riddle himself, mortal again at last.

"Is there anything you require of me?" Severus asked, pulling Albus back to the present, back to current plans and needs.

The elderly man touched his beard, considering for a moment before he said, "I'll need your plans for ingredients you will need Pomona to cultivate over the summer by next month. As far as other matters, for the moment I must consult mind and memory to determine movements, to find the next step forward."

Severus bowed his head slightly to indicate that he understood, and Albus noted briefly that the young man seemed anxious, but as soon as he had left the room, Albus focused on the taxing, difficult bigger picture once more.

/-/

Snape and Sirius were both called to meet with the Voldemort, and Sirius wasn't sure what was going on, but he instantly thought the worst.

"Do you know what this is about?" he asked Snape, who glanced up and down the hall before leaning in.

"I don't know for certain, but I believe it has to do with a conversation I overheard the other day and passed on." He quirked a black eyebrow and Sirius understood that Snape wanted to show him something in his mind, so he nodded.

In a quick flash, Sirius could see Snape, and Dumbledore, in a private room at the Hog's Head, discussing a prophecy, and that Snape was supposed to tell Voldemort about it. Sirius nodded his understanding as the memory retreated from his consciousness and Sirius found his bearings in the present again.

"Enter," the voice of Voldemort said on the other side of the door, and the two men glanced at each other before entering as bid.

Voldemort was standing by the fireplace, looking down at the flames. Sirius was momentarily grateful for his mother's presence at Grimmauld Place, because it kept Voldemort from using their house at his whim.

"I do not believe Severus has told you," he said, not looking at the two men, "but there has been a prophecy about my destruction, Sirius."

"I see," Sirius said, pointedly leaving out the honorifics the other Death Eaters used. It seemed to amuse Voldemort that Sirius was stubborn about withholding shows of devotion, so he kept doing it. "And what does this prophecy suggest?"

"That I will be betrayed by someone of pure blood, someone with a young child."

Apart from the pureblood, it was very vague, and Sirius said nothing, glancing at Snape, who was pale.

"The only purebloods I know of who are expecting are the Malfoys and the Longbottoms," Sirius said, nervous to say that about either family, for fear that Voldemort would decide it was worthwhile to destroy them both. He didn't want to lose either of them.

"Ah, but it includes the pureblood parents, not the parents of purebloods," Voldemort said softly. "And that, I believe, would include your _dear_ friend, James Potter."

Sirius said nothing, taking in this news as Snape's fingers curled tightly. The most horrible feeling came over Sirius as he realized what might be asked of him. What might be expected.

"And is your wife, by chance, with child, Sirius?"

"She is not," he said, grateful on many counts that they had been careful about that.

"See that she remains so," he said sternly.

To Sirius's surprise, Snape took a step forward and said, "My Lord, perhaps you are aware of this already, but if not, I hope to bring to your attention a situation Bellatrix has brought about out of…jealousy." Voldemort smirked and waved for him to continue. "She has employed Crouch to seduce Cara Black, by any means necessary. He has thus far failed, but should he force her hand, by law the child would be Sirius's and it would potentially complicate matters."

Sirius held his breath, for the first time in his life exceedingly grateful to Snape.

"I was aware of this," Voldemort said. "Perhaps your wife did not tell you, Sirius, but she has thwarted a moderately strong attempt at the Imperius Curse. She may not be capable of casting a such a spell, but that is no small feat. You should be very proud of her."

"I am always proud of her," Sirius said.

Voldemort turned and gave him a very amused smirk before he said, "I will have words with Bellatrix. You will not impregnate your wife. And you will tell me what Dumbledore is doing about this prophecy." He turned back to the fire and said, "Both of you."

They both gave their affirmative that they would find out what Dumbledore was planning, and they left, dismissed, without either saying a word to the other.

/-/

Although it took a great deal of magical energy and control to sort memories with a Pensieve, Albus found it a most useful exercise. It allowed him to search through his many decades of life to find trends, patterns, relevance that connected seemingly disconnected events together like a thread.

In tracing through Albus's many interactions with Tom Riddle from the last year of his time at Hogwarts until their most recent, fleeting meetings across burned battlefields, Albus discovered a memory that he had not thought of in some time.

It was years ago now, in 1957, not too long after Albus had become headmaster of Hogwarts, when the man who had been Tom Riddle resurfaced, coming to Hogwarts in pursuit of the job that had been denied to him years prior, on graduation. It was ten years after the death of Hepzibah Smith, ten years since Tom had taken off to what Albus now knew for certain had been Albania.

Tom had shown up, already known to his followers – for they were never truly friends – as Lord Voldemort, and he expected Albus to give him a position teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts, a position that had not held any one teacher for more than a year ever since to was denied to Tom Riddle.

Although it was nearly impossible to be certain what Tom had been up to in those ten years, where he had gone, what he had done, it was certain that in those years he found the diadem and created a Horcrux from it, and that he had since placed that Horcrux somewhere of significance to him. To his cause.

The home of his family and site of his first killing spree? The ancient family vaults in Gringotts, symbols of the purest of blood? The site of his first reign of terror over helpless Muggles? Where else would Tom find significant, if not the orphanage? Borgin and Burkes? But then then there was a risk of accidental sale, and the proprietors could not be trusted to simply hold on to such a valuable magical artifact, for any price.

No, he thought, pressing his fingers together, leaning back in his chair to digest the memory. Tom would have left the diadem somewhere of great personal significance, somewhere he would have felt at home.

Albus stood, crossing to the Pensieve, contemplating sifting back about twelve years from this memory, finding where Tom had asked Dippet if he would be able to spend the summer holiday at the school. Because he was an orphan, and because Hogwarts was his home.

It was more than that, though, Albus realized. Hogwarts was where he made his first connections, began consolidating his power. He had killed a girl, proved himself – and then framed another – to be the heir of Slytherin. He had created what would later be the Death Eaters out of housemates and fellow members of Horace Slughorn's little collection of powerful, talented students. He had learned of Horcruxes and hatched his greatest plans.

No, Hogwarts would not just have been a home to Tom. It was so much more, a beginning, a baseline where he established his character, ambition, and tools for all the years to come. He had not merely come searching for a job that night, more than twenty years ago, but a place to hide the diadem.

But where in the castle?

Albus began to pace the floor, thinking through the castle from top to bottom. As a Slytherin, the bowels of the school would have been a kind of home, and there was always the Chamber of Secrets, which would be very inconvenient, indeed. But would Tom have had time to access such places on his very brief visit to Hogwarts?

He thought not, and decided that it had to be something closer to his own office. A classroom, perhaps? Some secret corner of the Restricted Section?

The danger was leaving it somewhere another student might stumble across it. There were many hiding place in Hogwarts, but not so many hidden places. Albus admitted freely, to himself or anyone who asked, that he did not know all the secrets of Hogwarts. He believed that no student, even the most precocious like Messrs. Black and Potter had discovered everything there was to discover within those walls. Perhaps the house-elves knew all of the secrets, or most of them, or maybe some of the ghosts, but the real question was, which secrets were so secret that someone like Tom Riddle would truly believe that only he knew of its existence?

Many secret passages existed, but to hide something in them would be difficult. If another student stumbled across them, the Horcrux would be simple to find. It had to be somewhere it could hide even if the place itself was discovered.

Albus smiled to himself, the realization seeming so simple, as puzzles often did upon their solving. He had stumbled across the room himself from time to time, although it had never taken the same shape twice. He believed that the elves had several names for it, among them the Room of Requirement and the Come and Go Room.

Of course, Tom would never rate the elves. He would have seen asking house-elves as beneath him, if the idea had occurred to him at all. He would have asked any teacher, any expert, but to rely on those below him for information was a weakness. But Tom could have stumbled across the room, as so many students do, even if he did not understand the full extent of what it was capable of. Albus knew that if Tom had gone there that night, which would not have been too far out of his way, even if he had done it with the intention of retrieving it later, it would have taken on the form of the Room of Hidden Things, a room so full of things students had tossed in over the years that finding anything in it would be miraculous.

And this was where Severus would come in. Two sets of eyes were most certainly better than one.

 **A/N: So… Barty's being chastised. James is the suspected person in the prophecy. Albus is a step or two closer to finding the final Horcrux. We're getting closer, now! About half a dozen chapters from now, we'll know EVERYTHING.**

 **Looking forward to your insights! Remember: ten reviews in a week earns an extra chapter!**

 **Review Prompt: Who do you think the prophecy is about?**

 **-C**


	28. Unanswered Questions

Ever since her cryptic conversation with Madam Selwyn, Dorcas had been trying to get alone with woman again, to get an invitation for tea, perhaps, or something where she could try to get more information out of this woman. Dorcas knew it was entirely possible that Madam Selwyn actually had very little insight into the matter, and simply felt she was extremely knowledgeable in all things to do with her child, but Dorcas had decided that she could always try to find out for certain.

To her disappointment and frustration, however, she was getting nowhere.

After a pleasant society luncheon in February where nothing of consequence happened or was discussed, Dorcas cornered the hostess, the formidable Augusta Longbottom.

"I haven't congratulated you yet on the upcoming birth of your grandchild," Dorcas said by way of introduction. She couldn't just unceremoniously pump the old woman for information on another society lady.

"Grandson," Augusta corrected, and Dorcas internally chided herself for not remembering such a critical detail. Alice had said that her mother-in-law was prodigiously pleased that the child would be a boy.

There did seem to be an awful lot of boys coming up, Dorcas thought before making certain her smile was pasted on and trying again.

"Yes, I had heard that. Congratulations. You must be so very proud."

"Indeed, I am," Augusta said, not cheerfully. Augusta never said anything cheerfully.

Dorcas allowed Augusta to talk for several minutes on Frank's accomplishments, and how he had made the family proud. Dorcas felt a great deal of pity for this child of Frank's, knowing that there would be a great legacy he was expected to live up to.

"Madam Longbottom," Dorcas eventually said, "there was something I hoped to ask you about, something I thought you might be able to clarify for me. I know you're a woman of keen perception and intelligence."

Augusta quirked up an eyebrow at the flattery, but she did not argue. In fact, she seemed rather puffed up by the matter, even pulling her little red handbag up to her elbow.

"Well, my dear, ask away."

Dorcas glanced over her shoulder, then back, and said, "I had a bit of an odd conversation recently with Madam Selwyn, and I was wondering what you thought of her. I really wasn't quite sure what to make of her."

A strange shadow passed over Augusta Longbottom's face at the mention of Madam Selwyn, but her eyes seemed to soften, and she gestured for Dorcas to sit again, which the two women did.

"You are acquainted, I think, with her daughter, Cara Black?"

"A little."

It wasn't exactly a lie. There was much Dorcas did not know about Cara Black, and much that she couldn't be sure of.

"But you have heard the stories, I imagine." Dorcas nodded, and Augusta continued stiffly, "Well, I won't say that Madam Selwyn was forced into the affair, because that lends an element of brutishness to the matter that I have difficulty believing in. But you are aware of how a person's hand can be forced in more…subtle ways when one gets too deep into that strand of society. I believe she was a reluctant partner in the matter, if not exactly unwilling.

"From what I have seen, Cara Black was almost raised to be like her mother, whatever her inclinations were naturally. She appears to be a very compliant, shrinking violet sort of young woman, and she is lucky that her husband is a great deal stronger in all respects than Cara's legal father, perhaps a great deal closer to Cara's biological father, if you catch my meaning."

"Does Cara take after her biological father at all, do you think?" Dorcas asked.

Augusta pursed her lips as though she wished very much to say something but was holding in the words for some reason. Dorcas waited anxiously for any kind of answer, and Augusta finally said, "I do not know her well enough to say, but I really do not know whether we should hope she does or hope she doesn't, for her sake. I suppose it would depend upon which traits. May I ask what this conversation was about?"

Dorcas pressed her lips together and twisted her mouth slightly, a bad habit she had picked up years ago when she was contemplating a particularly difficult exam question. How much could she say? How much should she?

"Based on what you've just said," Dorcas said slowly, "I think she was trying to tell me that someone was trying to strong-arm Cara into an affair. But I knew Sirius Black once upon a time very well, and I find it hard to believe he'd stand for that."

Augusta seemed mildly surprised, her eyebrow lifting ever-so-slightly. She said, "A man like Abraxas Malfoy would never have been cuckolded. Do you know why?" Dorcas shook her head. "Because he would have tortured anyone who touched his wife, and killed anyone who touched her twice. If you think Sirius Black is capable of that, then Cara Black's honor is safe. Otherwise, nothing is certain. If this supposed suitor wants her, either Cara or Sirius has to be willing to be brutal in response, and as Cara has no significant magical ability, it will be down to her husband."

Dorcas thanked Augusta and left with a promise to return for tea the following week. As Dorcas walked away from the house, she turned over the possibilities as her own stomach flipped and flopped. The Sirius she had known, the one who had laughed at the Order meetings and been so gentle with the scared young girl who turned up on their doorstep, he couldn't possibly do those things.

But this new Sirius? The one who returned to his home that he hated, the one that socialized with the Malfoys and Lestranges and even Severus Snape for the sake of protecting his wife? What was he capable of doing for her sake?

She didn't know, but knowing his strength, knowing his incredible magical capability, it terrified her to imagine what he might do.

/-/

Sirius hadn't expected to have building done so quickly, but Narcissa was incredibly efficient. She and Cara already had workers in tearing out wallpaper and preparing the entry and corridors for painting. The house was bustling with activity, and Sirius found his mother hiding out in her bedroom, where she had been spending quite a bit of time, rereading _Nature's Nobility_.

"Mother?"

She looked up and gave him a tight, watery smile. It was never the smile she had given Regulus, doting and proud without reservation, almost tender. With Sirius, there was a perpetual tightness, but he tried not to think about that.

"Is everything alright?" he asked. "I need to run some errands, but Kreacher said you spurned your tea. He's very concerned."

She looked back down at the book in her hands, flipping through the pages aimlessly.

"So much tradition, gone," she sighed. "I understand that your wife is very sensitive, but I will miss the way things used to be."

Sirius frowned, seeing for the first time what his mother was. She was a product of a world that no longer existed, clinging to a past that was gone before she was born, and stories of glory from generations past told as legends around the dinner table. The world could move around her, as long as her little bubble never changed. And now, everything was out of her control and changing terribly rapidly.

"Mother," he said, forcing himself to be gentle, "the world is changing. We can hold on to some things, even as we let others go. But I am sure Cara would like your support in making these changes. For one thing, with Narcissa in her condition, they may want an extra, keen pair of eyes keeping watch on the workers."

His mother's neck lifted as she considered this, and she snapped the book closed, setting it on her bedside table, standing in a sweeping motion Sirius recognized as one she often used when about to discipline him, and he nearly shrank away from her out of habit.

"How many are there?"

"Half a dozen or so," he said, trying not to smile. "Especially as I'll be out and about today…"

"You leave it with me," she said firmly. "They won't make off with any Black family silver, not on my watch."

He thanked her, kissed her hand to hide his smirk, and took off, winking at Narcissa on his way out the door. She smirked back at him.

One small thing accomplished, but at least it was something to cross off the list.

/-/

Sitting in headquarters, Dorcas turned over and over what she knew of the characters she was tailing, and what they would be prepared to do in any number of situations. The scariest thing was, the men were still very much a mystery to her. The husbands could react in any number of ways to the news and behaviors of their wives.

And the longer Sirius was in that crowd, the less certain she was of what he was up to, what he could be doing.

Fabian sat down, pushing a cup of tea across the table at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"Lost in thought, dove."

She murmured thanks for the tea, pulling to her lips, letting the steam tickle her nostrils pleasantly. Dorcas inhaled deeply before taking a few long sips.

"Fabian," she said, setting the cup down again and looking at his freckles instead of his eyes. She knew him by his freckles, and it was almost compelling to trace across them with her gaze whenever they were speaking. "How close were you and Gideon to dying the other day?"

His smile faltered for a moment, but he forced the grin back again and said, "Ah, you know us, dove. We're always playing things close to the edge."

"What do you think saved you?"

He rubbed his eyes and said, "One of the masked ones seemed to mess up. I reckon he missed his mark or something, stunned the guy about to do me in, threw off the one dueling Gideon. Probably young and inexperienced, you know?"

Dorcas hummed, raising her tea to her lips again. She wasn't so sure he was right, but perhaps it was wishful thinking on her part.

/-/

Narcissa looked in the mirror. She'd had a long, fruitful day of work at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, and even Aunt Walburga was getting into the project. Narcissa turned slightly to the side, looking at the rather large bulge that was her abdomen, and the baby inside her womb.

Everything was coming along well, and the more times that awful Healer visited, the paler he looked after her examination. He'd made changes to her regimen, and in return Severus would visit and adjust her regimen for her child to be safe. It was exhausting, and it seemed to make Lucius anxious, and Barty Crouch, Jr. even more anxious, but Narcissa was pleased with feeling her baby kick.

Everything, all the work, all the sneaking around, all the stress and pain, would be worthwhile when she held that baby in her arms and saw his eyes and gave him a name. And with any luck at all, he'd know a life without a war. And perhaps, with a little bit more luck, he would never know what either of his parents did in the war he was conceived in, and he would never ask.

/-/

Sirius slipped through the crowd of people at the meeting. He'd congratulated Lily on everything again, although he couldn't look at her the same, knowing what he knew. He told Albus that Cara was being taken care of, and Albus gave him an understanding nod, and he stepped outside, about the leave when he decided to pause of a cigarette. Desperately, that was how badly he needed that cigarette, and he shivered as he lit it, taking a long drag.

Cara didn't mind that he smoked, but he had a part to play, and until his mother was gone, until the war was over, until whoever that prophecy was about finished what had to be done, he could only smoke after meetings, and he was afraid to give up the smoking entirely. It was grounding, holding the smoke in his lungs and letting it out again, feeling the drug of the nicotine cause him to lose the edge of agitation that would build up in him between meetings. Only cigarettes and Cara's body wrapped around him could rid him of that terrible agitation.

But Sirius was not alone for long. Dorcas slipped out of the front door, not saying anything, just watching him smoke, which he hated. It was hard to let anyone even see him smoke, much less watch him do it.

"I need to speak to you."

"You shouldn't," he said firmly.

But she didn't leave. She watched him, waiting, perhaps waiting for him to finish the cigarette. He tossed it down, half-finished, and put it out, looking at her expectantly. The sooner this was over with, the better for them both. Less for either of them to hide.

"Yes?" he prompted, wishing he didn't sound so harsh, so cruel. He liked Dorcas, he really did, but he had to maintain his cover, his hiding place, and she would never understand. He hoped someday she would understand, but someday when everything was over. Too soon and she would ruin them both, ruin Cara, ruin Narcissa and Snape, possibly.

Ruin everything.

"At the parties," she said softly. "Crouch dogs your wife."

"He won't anymore," Sirius spat out.

"Because you've talked to Voldemort."

His hands tightened and he looked away from her. She would say something to Albus, and what would Albus tell her? Sirius couldn't say he'd done it, but he couldn't bring himself to lie to her. He looked away, down at the cigarette, no embers but a bit of smoke still wafting up from it.

"Sirius, what have you done?"

He asked himself that question every day, several times a day, although it wasn't healthy and it wasn't helpful. Perhaps it helped him to realize that it was real, or to remember why he'd done any of it. One death became many. He didn't even know the names of every person whose blood was on his hands now, but he remembered their faces, their eyes. If someone asked, someday, he would be able to describe every pair of eyes as the light left it, but he'd done it quick. He'd showed them mercy. After all, if he hadn't done it, another Death Eater would have, and painfully.

They were dead anyway. There was nothing else he could have done.

"Sirius, your wife. Would you kill for her?"

He felt nauseous. He lit another cigarette, carefully sucking in a lungful of smoke and holding it there before breathing it out of flared nostrils, still not looking Dorcas in the eye. He wanted her to vanish, but she wouldn't leave. She wouldn't go anywhere until he said something, so he said all that he could say.

"We've all made our choices, right? That's what…that's what Lily said to me once. But some of the choices, Dorcas, they're loaded. And the die can only fall one way, and you can take it willingly or you can take it unwillingly. You can…you can do the best you can to make the most of it, or you can let your soul go and submit to it."

Finally, he looked up at her, ignoring the startled expression on her face, with its small features and flared nostrils and strangely thin eyebrows.

"When this is all over, Dorcas, if you and I are both alive, ask me that question again, and I'll give you a proper answer. Until then, stay as far away from me as you can, or we'll probably not make it and you'll never get your answers. Okay?"

She said nothing still, and he tossed the cigarette down, barely smoked, putting it out and walking away from her. He hated himself.

Because he would kill hundreds of people, innocent or otherwise, if it meant saving Cara. And he found that terrifying and revolting, and so perfectly natural all at once.

/-/

James watched Lily tap anxiously on the side of her teacup as they sat down with Dumbledore. He'd just said goodbye to the Longbottoms, but the look on his face when they sat down with him darkened, and James knew something was terribly wrong.

"How is the baby?" he asked with a levity his eyes didn't match, and James nearly shivered.

"He's well," Lily said, smiling with a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Who were these people, James wondered? What was it that they were not saying for his benefit?

"Good, good. I'm going to have to take some measures, I'm afraid."

"Measures?" James asked.

Dumbledore's eyes had no sparkle, James realized. Those piercing blue eyes always had just a bit of a twinkle, but they were not twinkling now.

"Indeed. There has been a prophecy. I know of it, and Voldemort knows of it. It is about his destruction. And while I do not believe he is necessarily correct, he believes, for the moment, it seems, that the prophecy refers to James."

Lily knocked over her teacup as she lifted her hand, trembling, to her lips, and James watched her as she anxiously fumbled about, trying to clean it up. Dumbledore raised his wand and casually cleaned it for her, watching her try to settle back into her chair. But she wouldn't stop trembling.

"So what do we do?" James asked.

"Hiding, James," Dumbledore said softly. "For the time being, until we know more, you and Lily need to go into hiding. To protect you, and to protect the baby."

"The baby? What does Harry have to do with it?"

"The prophecy hinges on parenthood, and he may feel that by ridding you of the baby, he can still turn you and use you safely. Do you see?"

James didn't see. That was his child, and this was his life, and the last thing he wanted was to go into hiding. They were short of people, short of fighters. He thought of his cloak, of sneaking out and doing battle beneath it, but he realized he couldn't do that to Lily, to abandon her to hiding while he went off, still doing battle, endangering himself.

"What do you suggest?" he asked, his throat dry, his mouth drying by the second.

Dumbledore hesitated, his eyes sad, almost begging forgiveness, which James wasn't sure he could give.

"Fidelus Charm."

"Sirius," James said automatically. "Sirius as Secret-Keeper."

"Absolutely not," Lily said firmly, although her voice was trembling.

He looked at her, astonished, and saw that her jaw was twitching, her eyes cold and determined.

"What do you mean?"

"Sirius Black is not going to be our Secret-Keeper, James."

"But, Lily, I trust him more than anyone. With my life, with our lives." He felt strangely pained. "Don't…don't you?"

"It isn't a question of that," she said softly. "James, if they find out he's the Secret-Keeper, and they will, do you honestly believe they would hesitate to threaten Cara? Do you really want to put him in that position?"

James's lips parted with the shock of her suggestion. But she was right, of course. If it were only a question of Sirius saying or being tortured or dying, James would not hesitate. Sirius would take their safety to the grave. But how that there was his wife to consider, it wouldn't be fair to do that.

"You need to give the responsibility to someone they cannot touch," Dumbledore said softly. "Someone with nothing to lose."

"Mad-Eye," Lily and James chorused, both looking at the table.

James couldn't help but feel guilty, like somehow this was all terribly wrong, but Dumbledore was already saying that he would make the arrangements, and that they would be kept apprised of details of upcoming meetings through Mad-Eye Moody, who would make regular visits.

And if necessary, if they had the baby before the threat was gone, Dumbledore said that Mad-Eye would give their location to Dumbledore, who was capable of delivering a baby, if necessary.

Necessary. James hated that word.

 **A/N: Everybody thank my dear friend MissRoseAlanaHorton, whose reviews pushed us over the 10-review extra chapter threshold. We're getting so close now, and into some of my favorite chapters, so I'm hoping y'all give us a fairly steady review stream to get the chapters rolling quickly.**

 **Review Prompt: What do you think Barty is thinking right about now?**

 **-C**


	29. Crossing the Line

Albus walked into the Room of Hidden Things, glancing around with mild amusement at all the things students had chucked inside over the years. In fact, he thought wryly, picking up a small box containing the leaves from a Venemous Tentacula – a controlled substance – there were probably a few professors who had chucked a thing or two in over the years as well.

There were things in here that were Dark and dangerous, he could sense, but it wasn't just one thing he could hone in on. It would take time to find what he was looking for, time and a second pair of eyes, and then once he found it, it would have to be destroyed. But Albus knew, very keenly, that time was not on his side. It was only a matter of time until someone was discovered, whoever that someone might be, and then the whole thing could come crashing down around them.

No, time was most certainly not on his side.

/-/

Narcissa led Sirius through the Malfoy garden, past the peacock, toward a hedge of roses she was especially fond of.

"I despise nearly everyone in that bloody room," he muttered, in case someone was trying to listen to them, and he smiled at her.

"Don't we all?" she sighed. "Listen, Sirius, when I have the baby, will you promise to be there? Only, I'm afraid of…"

She pursed her lips and he didn't ask. Her fears were her own, and he had enough to carry for three men, much less the fears of others.

"I'll be there," he said, "if I can be there. I want to promise, but…."

Narcissa nodded.

Serving one master kept her husband away from her often enough. Serving two tore Sirius away from Cara painfully often. There were only so many promises he could make.

"I suppose we'll have to go back inside soon," he said bitterly. "It's nice out here. I wish we had a garden. I think Cat would like a garden, don't you?"

"Someday, Sirius," she said, patting his arm. "One day at a time. Come on. I'm sure you'll want to see Bella's face turn purple again at the sight of you kissing Cara in public."

He grinned the first genuine grin in days, and allowed her to lead him back into the house.

/-/

Severus had not planned for how busy he would be as a teacher. Of course, he had always known that professors had to create assignments, teach, and mark. They had to patrol the halls, and even deal with discipline and detentions and such. Severus, unfortunately, had even agreed to be the Head of Slytherin House, being the only Slytherin currently on staff.

Why did he think this would be simple?

And now, on top of everything else, Albus Dumbledore had him sorting through junk in a place called the Room of Requirement, looking for a bloody tiara. There were probably millions of items in the room, millions of things stashed away and forgotten by generations of students and teachers, and the item they were looking for had been left here, he was told, decades ago.

After the third fanged Frisbee of the day, Severus growled, incinerated the thing, and walked out. He would try again in the morning, when he'd had some sleep and perhaps a potion to numb his aggravated headache.

/-/

Lily watched from the second story window of their cottage, watched a wind blow up the leaves on trees on the high street, where Muggles went passing, coming and going as they pleased. James and finished making the nursery, finished preparing a space for their child. She shivered at the thought of what James had suggested, of having Sirius be their Secret-Keeper.

Cara would be dead for sure, and possibly Sirius, too. And then where would they all be?

"Darling?" James called from down the stairs. "I'm making tea. Do you want a cup?"

She closed her eyes, resting her forehead on the cool windowpane, imagining the breeze on her face.

"No," she said, realizing she'd spoken too softly for him to hear. She cleared her throat. "No," she said again, forcing her voice louder. She hated having to speak that loud. Her voice always seemed higher, artificial, not her own voice. She exhaled hard, knowing without looking that condensation was forming on the windowpane where she had breathed on it. For March, it was terribly cold outside. Shouldn't they have spring? Shouldn't it be warming up for flowers to bud?

Or was it only her that felt so cold?

/-/

Albus and Severus spent Sunday morning together in the Room of Hidden Things, discussing updates on the world around them as they worked.

"There is another Weasley," Albus said, smiling to himself. "A sixth boy, the Prewetts tell me. Ronald, he's been named."

"Disgusting," Severus said, pretending to be paying more attention to the moldy panties he was setting aside and not the mention of a sixth Weasley child. Albus hardly cared what Severus thought of the matter. It was nice that such love existed that could produce so many children.

"How is Narcissa Malfoy's child?"

"Due in three months' time," Severus replied, clearly not interested in giving a more complete answer than that.

Albus did not pry, instead regaling Severus with trivial bits and bobs of news that no doubt held no interest for the young man, but things which perhaps would give him some hope that there was more to the world around them than the despair he saw almost every day. It was the least Albus could do, with all he was asking of this man, to try to give him hope.

/-/

In a small house in the middle of nowhere in the countryside, Dorcas Meadows sat, staring, at a tiny flower bush she had planted when the McKinnons were murdered. She had been turning over Sirius's words in her mind since she confronted him, and she wished she could feel comforted with his responses, but she was even more afraid.

He was spying, that was obvious, but spying on whom? On Voldemort, who secured the safety of his wife? On Dumbledore, who had given him everything?

She knew now without a shadow of a doubt that there was a mark on his arm, a skull and a snake, burning black on his skin as it had on Peter's. How much of the recent past was a lie and how much was truth?

Once upon a time, she could have talked with Caradoc about this sort of thing. Or Fabian. But now she was too afraid to speak to anyone but Dumbledore, and she was too afraid to ask Dumbledore about Sirius, because what if he'd been fooled? He hadn't known about Peter. Wasn't it possible that he didn't know the real allegiance of Sirius Black?

If the war ended tomorrow, she thought, leaning against a windowsill, what would history say about Sirius Black? Could history be trusted, anyway? Every time she picked up the paper, she saw conflations, speculation, flat-out lies told to make people feel the Ministry was their ally, or that something was under control, when everyone knew nothing was. It was a wonder there hadn't been some sort of revolution.

Maybe when all of this was over, she would go to America. No Death Eaters. No war. Or maybe Canada. Canada seemed a better place to avoid a war.

But she watched the bush bristle in the wind, and she knew she would never leave. She needed to be close to her lost friends, to their memory. She needed to be able to visit their gravesites, to see this bush.

That was, if, as Sirius had said, she managed to survive to see the end.

/-/

After three straight nights of almost no sleep, Severus was growing painfully irritable, and he was about to say that perhaps this tiara wasn't actually there, when he knocked over a box of quills – no doubt Autocorrect Quills or some such nonsense – and his eye was drawn to a marble bust with a strange wig, and a tiara on top.

There was no guarantee it was what they were looking for, he reminded himself as he crossed to the mound of junk it was on. After all, decades of garbage had no doubt already been searched, and it was possible that there were dozens of tiaras in the mess. As he approached, however, he could feel pulsating Dark Magic, of a very insidious kind.

"Professor Dumbledore," he said, "I think I've found something."

As he heard the old man approach, he carefully reached out to pick it up, breathing a sigh of relief when it did not harm him.

"There's an inscription," he said when he turned to find Dumbledore standing there. "It says, 'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure.'"

When he looked up, Dumbledore was smiling again, holding out his hand.

"We have found the final piece," he said. "Now it is a matter of destroying it."

"And then?" Severus prompted.

Dumbledore frowned slightly, folding the diadem in a piece of cloth and tucking it inside his robes.

"We shall see."

/-/

Cara Black walked up and down the staircase, going for the best view of each corridor, every corner, every tiny bit of bannister and molding. The color was exactly as she had imagined it, and even Narcissa had agreed that it looked perfect with the bannister wood, in spite of the other woman's reservations.

She sat down at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the ceiling, leaning back on the stairs. She felt the edges of the steps dig into her back, but it was a pleasant feeling, and she smiled. For the first time, she felt she'd really accomplished something. Yes, she accomplished it with help, but it was her choices, her preferences.

No more troll's foot umbrella stand. No more house-elf heads lining the walls.

Tomorrow they began with refurnishing the drawing room, cleaning out the cabinets, replacing them with new glass-front cabinets in a warmer-toned wood, and light-colored sofas, a new writing desk, and a new mantle for the fireplace.

A full day's work, especially with the fireplace, but with Cara's mother-in-law now on board, Cara felt more confident with every change. Soon enough, she told herself. Soon enough, they would have a house worth inviting people to, worth living in.

Worth keeping, when all was said and done.

/-/

Albus turned the diadem over in his hands. It was a gentle, fragile-looking thing, and ancient, goblin-wrought. How many precious things had been cursed, touched with Dark Magic over the years? Plenty of family heirlooms, Albus knew. There were many curious and dangerous things in the depths of Gringotts, in the oldest vaults of the wealthiest families. He suspected that Sirius had a great number of such things in his own vaults.

Two hours ago, Albus had used Fawkes to send Alastor a message, to ask him to meet at their usual place at the weekend, on Friday, in the early hours of the morning. Alastor responded within ten minutes that he would be there.

Until then, Albus needed to hold on to this diadem, but he felt heaviness. Should he tell Helena Ravenclaw that he had discovered the item? Was there an obligation to tell her what had become of it, what would become of it?

But then, how would Tom have found the thing if she hadn't told him? Tom Riddle was very clever, but he hadn't the access to Albus's resources, the wealth of information at the disposal of a headmaster of Hogwarts, going back centuries. The young Tom Riddle relied on his charms and cleverness, and a little bit on his talent. He must have flattered her, teased the information out of her, as he had done with Horace, with Dippet, with Hepzibah Smith, with so many others before.

He closed his eyes, feeling the sting of their dryness, the weight of their tiredness. How had he not realized how late it was?

Albus locked the diadem in a drawer by itself. There was so much still unknown about Horcruxes, and Albus did not want to take any unnecessary risks.

When the door was locked he tried to empty his mind of the prophecy, the Secret-Keeping, the Horcruxes, and the terrible knowledge that someone would have to be sent to kill Voldemort, when the time came. With any luck, it was only a matter of months, now. Until August.

/-/

Severus took the potions he had traded out and placed them in his pocket, telling Narcissa that he would see her in a week's time and thanking her for the tea, not acknowledging what they had done, what they were still doing. She saw him to the door, and told him she looked forward to seeing him again, and he stepped out into the night. Sirius Black was due at Spinner's End any minute now, and Severus would be lucky to get there before Black.

Before he had taken two steps past the gate, however, he threw up a Shield Charm and blocked a rather clumsy attempt to stun him. He levitated the assailant by the ankle and crossed to him, frowning at the sight of Barty Crouch, Jr.

"Well," he said silkily, "I suppose you think you know a thing or two. Let's just see how you feel about that in an hour or so."

He grabbed Crouch's upper arm, and without even bothering to let him down, Severus turned on his heel and Disapparated them both to Cokeworth.

Black was already waiting outside the house, his eyes widening at the sight of a slightly distressed, petrified Crouch.

"What are you doing with him?" Black demanded, and Severus waved his wand to unlock the house, motioning for Black to lead the way inside.

When the three were safely inside, the door locked behind Severus, they bound Crouch to a chair.

"He caught me coming out of Malfoy Manor," he said. "And he attacked me. I suspect he's aware I've been blocking his attempts to abort Narcissa's child."

"He what?" Black cried, his eyes flashing in outrage.

"His attempt to assure that there are no threats to his claim on the Black fortune, I expect," Severus said dryly, waving his wand for the decanter to pour out two glasses of firewhiskey. "If you and Narcissa die childless, he inherits as the closest relative."

Several points of Black's face began to twitch, including his nostrils and a spot at the back of his jaw. This was clearly the last straw for Black, who began to pace. Severus watched him, casually sipping his firewhiskey and ignoring the efforts of the bound and gagged Crouch to free himself, all in vain.

"What do we do with him?" Severus finally asked. "Remove his memories? Imperius Curse?"

"No," Sirius sighed. "Both are easily detectable by Voldemort. We need a more permanent solution."

To Severus's mild surprise, Black drew his wand and pointed it at their visitor.

"What's your most gruesome spell?" Black asked softly.

"How gruesome?"

"Long, painful, bloody if possible."

"Dead?"

"Very."

Severus tried not to smirk. He'd seen Black kill a few people now, but never with anything but the quick and theoretically painless Killing Curse.

"There's one I invented," he said, setting down his empty glass. "The incantation is _Sectumsempra_. Probably the best I can come up with. Take him to the kitchen, though. I expect you to clean up after yourself, and I doubt you know spells to remove blood from carpets."

Those same spots on Black's face were still twitching as he levitated Crouch, chair and all, into the kitchen. Severus followed, leaning against the doorframe as Black lifted his wand. There was a moment's pause, and Severus held his breath, wondering if perhaps the Gryffindor would back out, use a weaker curse after all. But then…

" _Sectumsempra_!"

The malice, the bile behind the spell was unmistakable in Black's voice, and Severus's eyes widened at the wounds that opened through the bindings, right at Crouch's chest. The bleeding was extensive, as Severus had expected, covering the floor, the table, even a little bit of it splattering up to the cabinets above the kitchen counter. Black would be expected to clean every last drop of it, so Severus was making very careful mental notes of the blood patterns.

As the life and blood left Crouch's body, he writhed in pain, first with noticeable force and very loud grunts and cries through the gag. The sounds became strangled, whimpering, choking, and the writhing was weaker and weaker as the two men watched him die. Those eyes went glassy, until there was no motion, no sound, except for the dripping of blood from his body, from the chair, onto the kitchen floor.

"How shall we explain this to the Dark Lord?" Severus asked mildly.

"We won't," Black said coolly, his face now a mask of calm, his voice perfectly serene. "Do you care about the chair?"

Severus shrugged. He really only needed one, and could conjure more if necessary.

Black Vanished the chair, leaving Crouch on the floor with his now-loose bindings, in a puddle of his own blood. A quick flick of the wand and the body was burnt to nearly-instant ashes, some of the blood congealing and bubbling on the kitchen floor. It would make cleaning more difficult for Black, but there would be no signs of the body once the ashes and blood were cleaned away.

"So," Severus said as Black cleaned meticulously, "we don't know where he is, do we?"

"No idea at all," Black said, smirking slightly. "Not as though I was fond of him, and since I have Voldemort's word that Crouch won't touch my wife, what business is he of mine?"

Severus smirked as the last of the blood was cleared away, and Sirius used his wand to casually conjure a glass of water and drink it, leaning against the counter he'd just scoured.

"Now," Black said, setting down the empty glass, "you wanted to talk about Horcruxes."

 **A/N: Picture someone grinning like an idiot. That's me right now. I just loved writing this scene, and editing was even better.**

 **So, they've found and will destroy the final Horcrux. The question is…what then?**

 **Review Prompt: Who's going to be the first person to ask if anybody's seen Barty?**

 **-C**


	30. A New Generation

Cara stirred her tea, thinking of making a cup for Narcissa. In the end she decided not to. Narcissa was so close to her due date that Cara did not make a point of expecting her. Any day, the baby would come, and so she set out the tea for Kreacher to take up to Walburga, who had a headache and claimed she wouldn't come down at all (so she would certainly be down by lunch), and Cara poured a bit of milk in a cup of tea for Sirius.

He rattled down the stairs three minutes later, just as she was finishing her own tea, and he kissed her cheek, pulling out a chair and snatching up the morning paper.

"Fifth of June," he muttered to himself. "Baby's coming soon, then, is he?"

"Within the week, if the Healers are to be believed," Cara said loftily. "Are you going out again today?"

"I might be, why?"

"If she hasn't come by at some point before you leave," she said, watching Kreacher take away the cup for Walburga, "do you think you could stop in at the Manor on your way to…wherever? I'd just like to know how she is."

Sirius smiled, touched her and, letting his fingertips brush her fingers teasingly.

"Of course, darling," he said. "I'll let you know before I leave so you know what to expect."

Cara could have laughed. As if any of them knew what to expect anymore.

/-/

James rubbed Lily's feet, smiling anxiously at her. He was disappointed he couldn't get out of the house, and that sometimes she would crave things and he couldn't get them for her, and it drove him mad that it might not be possible to even get her out of the house in two months' time to have the baby.

"I wonder when Petunia's having her baby," Lily said thoughtfully.

He tried not to roll his eyes, but at least she wasn't looking at him. He really couldn't care less if that cow of a sister she had birthed ten children between now and Sunday, his wonderful baby boy was going to have nothing to do with any of them.

"James, do we have any pickled radishes?"

"Lily, why would we have pickled radishes?" he asked nervously. She couldn't be serious. She couldn't actually be craving something so vile. They didn't have anything remotely like it in the house, and if she was going to insist, he was going to probably break down in tears.

She sat up, smirking at him. She was getting far too good at that expression. Perhaps he and Sirius had been rubbing off on her.

"Of course I'm kidding," she said, tapping his hand gently. "Could you make me a peanut butter sandwich, love? I'm starving."

"Your wish is my command, darling," he said, pressing his lips to her nose, then her lips, then her belly.

Peanut butter. He could do peanut butter, and that one little thing made him feel like king of the world.

/-/

For a while, Narcissa ignored the contractions. She was having her morning tea with her husband, and nothing was going to interfere with that. However, when after a particularly forceful contraction, she dropped her teacup and startled Lucius, and he realized very quickly what was happening.

"I'll call for the Healer," he said.

"You will bloody well not," she hissed. "You will call for Severus, and you will call for Sirius and Cara, and that is all you will do. Are we perfectly clear?"

He appeared startled, but then he said, "And who do you expect to deliver the baby?"

"I expect one of them will do it," she sighed. "Now hurry up or I'll just have him sitting here, shall I?"

That made him snap to attention, and the second he left the room to carry out her orders, Narcissa threw her head back in pain and let out a scream of pain and frustration.

/-/

Albus turned over the destroyed diadem, as he had done many times since early March. The final Horcrux gone, but now for the question of what to do about Tom Riddle. He had asked himself hundreds of times what to do, who to do it. He knew it couldn't be himself, for hundreds of reasons. It was a small relief, but it shouldn't have been.

Because it meant someone else had to do it.

The thing that worried Albus was that he might have to ask James to do it, James who he had kept out of things for so long.

One more life to ruin with this, and Albus wasn't sure he could ask it. James was so much of a child still, in spite of everything. It didn't seem right to ask him to stain his soul, even for the greater good.

And so Albus brought himself back to square one all over again, and he wished he could tell himself there was another solution, but Albus had never been ever to lie to himself. Only to delay the inevitable.

/-/

Severus arrived after the Blacks, and Lucius stopped him in the corridor, obviously upset about something.

"Why does she want you here?" Lucius demanded, his voice a kind of stage whisper, obviously to try to keep his wife from hearing the altercation. "Why you instead of her Healer?"

Staring back at the irate man, Severus said nothing, and tried to pass again, but Lucius pushed him back once more. Severus did not want to curse him, especially not on the day of the birth of his son, but he was very close to reaching for his wand.

"Why you?" Lucius repeated, and footsteps sounded up the corridor.

"Because," Sirius said in his most sickening pureblood drawl, "your bloody Healer was trying to poison your wife into a miscarriage, and if she hadn't been such a crack hand at identifying potions and called in Severus, you wouldn't be having a baby today. Any other stupid questions?" He quirked an eyebrow at a bewildered Lucius and said, "No? Good, then, Severus, Narcissa is asking for you. Seems to think I shouldn't be delivering a baby."

He smirked, motioning for Severus to follow him, which he did, raising an eyebrow up at Lucius on the way past to the room where awaited what would undoubtedly be the task Severus was least qualified to do in the whole of his life.

/-/

On his cousin's bidding, Sirius had two tasks. He had already slipped out to inform Andromeda that Cissy was in labor, and now he was keeping Lucius Malfoy distracted. He poured the father-to-be a glass of brandy from the man's own stores and set it in front of the trembling blond man, swallowing his bile at the thought of trying to work on this man he despised so much.

"She's chosen a name, you know," Lucius said, wrapping his hands around the brandy glass, but not picking it up. "Draco. Another star name, but not one I know of having been used by anyone in your family before."

Sirius hummed. If it had been used, he didn't know and he didn't particularly care.

"There's nothing going on in there," Lucius said anxiously. "Well, you know, between my wife and Severus? I know you and he were never very great friends, and Cissy was always the one who refused to speak ill of you, even after you'd left. I…I just need to know, Sirius."

He weighed his options, wondering if Narcissa would ever forgive him for what he was about to say.

"No, it's nothing like that," Sirius said, shrugging. "She needed his expertise, and Severus wants to garner favor. You know him. Why do you think he followed you around, befriended my brother, joined the Dark Lord? It's all about getting a little bit of respect, something he can't get on his own, not as a half-blood."

Lucius nodded, rubbing his eyes. Sirius didn't want to mention Barty Crouch, not anything to do with things that could lead to questions about where exactly Crouch had gone, where he'd disappeared to.

"The fact is," he said, watching Lucius finally drink from the brandy glass, "your wife and Severus are friends, and they can trust each other, and as you and I both know, that's a rare thing in our world. He won't hurt her, or your child, because it's more than his life's worth, and can you really say that about anyone who isn't in this manor right now?"

Lucius raised his eyebrows as if to concede the point, and he downed the rest of his brandy. Sirius hoped his cousin appreciated all he was doing, when she finally stopped screaming and was in her right mind again. After her child was born.

/-/

Cara firmly decided in that moment, watching Narcissa scream herself hoarse in the agony of pushing, that she would never, ever have a child.

"That's it," Severus said. "One more push."

It was astonishing to Cara that Narcissa had any more push left in her, and yet there the baby was, small and pale and blood-covered. Cara watched Severus carefully siphon blood and fluids away from the baby, the screaming, wretched little mass. Severus cut the cord and Cara daubed sweat off Narcissa's brow.

"Your son," Severus said, breathing a sigh, but still frowning. He handed the baby to Narcissa, his black eyes dark and troubled as Narcissa held the child. "Guard him well."

Cara didn't know why, but it put a shiver down her spine.

/-/

Sirius lit a cigarette outside the gates, just in case Lucius got bored of holding his child and went looking out the windows.

"Those will kill you, you know," the smooth voice of Snape said, the man stepping out of the gates and smirking at Sirius.

"I see you've cleaned my cousin's amniotic fluids from your hands," Sirius said, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth as he spoke.

Snape quirked an eyebrow, but said nothing for a long moment. Both men were thinking of the child, of the prophecy, and whether or not Narcissa or Lucius was in the prophecy. Just because Voldemort thought it was James didn't mean it wasn't someone closer in. After all, the betrayal aspect didn't fit James, not unless Dumbledore had James do something absolutely awful in order to fulfill that prophecy.

"He's going to try to recruit him again, isn't he?" Sirius said softly, watching the smoke, not daring to look at Snape.

"I don't really know."

Unsaid, well-known, recruit him or kill him, as it had been with Sirius, as it no doubt was with all of them. Those who didn't come willingly were to be recruited or killed. It was all a question of priority, of the order of things.

"Her sister knows?" Snape whispered, probably glancing back up at the manor house. Sirius hummed that she did. "Well, that's something. Hopefully Bella doesn't do something stupid with the child, hmm?"

Sirius closed his eyes, holding in the smoke, thinking how when all was said and done, when Voldemort was gone and Sirius was about to cleanse himself of this whole mess, that was one kill he would have on his hands before he turned away from bloodshed.

And he knew just the spell he would use, courtesy of Severus Snape.

"You know," he said, smirking, "I think I might actually finish this one. You go on up. Make my bloody excuses. Oh, and Snape? Tell my wife I'm getting air. She'll not worry then."

Snape nodded, but paused and said, "Black, if Potter gets caught up in this, what are you going to do?"

Sirius's neck stiffened, and he said, "Well, that rather depends on how he gets caught up, now, doesn't it? You mind you and yours, Snape. I'll mind mine."

To his credit, Snape didn't fully smirk before turning and walking away, as Sirius had suggested. But Sirius found, as he could no longer hear Snape's footsteps on the path, that he no longer felt like finishing the cigarette, after all.

/-/

Narcissa felt the fullness of her exhaustion, and she passed her son to Cara, who looked nervous at holding the sleeping infant.

"He's a good boy," Narcissa said, laying back on the pillows, desperate for a shower but without the stand to actually take one. "I'm sure he's a good boy. After all I've done to get here, he just has to be."

Cara frowned, rubbing her forehead.

"I really don't think it works that way," she said softly. "But I see what you mean. Cissy, I'm worried about Sirius."

"Don't," Narcissa said, perhaps a bit too harshly. But she could tell from Cara's eyes that she understood. They couldn't talk about these things, not where Lucius might hear. "There's a thing you must understand, Cara, about the men we are married to. We worry in silence. We wonder in silence. If they deign to tell us anything, or we stumble upon it, we hold those things in silence. Do you understand me?"

Cara nodded, brushing her hands through the baby's peach fuzz for hair. The words were for the benefit of anyone listening in, and Narcissa winked at her. They would talk about it later.

Severus came in, looked at the sleeping child, and frowned again. Narcissa was no fool, something about her child made Severus uneasy, but he muttered to Cara that Sirius was getting air and Cara nodded that she understood.

"Severus," Narcissa said, forcing herself to sit up, "do me a favor. Will you please tell my husband that if he wishes to have visitors, he shall have to wait until the day after tomorrow? And that includes his in-laws."

He raised an eyebrow and said, "I may have helped you, Narcissa, but I'm not your servant. I have to get back to the school, and you can tell him yourself. He is your dog, isn't he? Comes when you call?"

She smiled, and he smirked back, bending down to lift and kiss her hand before he left.

"He's a very interesting man, Severus," Narcissa said to Cara, who looked confused. "Behind Lucius and me several years in school, in Sirius's year. Kept mostly to himself. Bit of an oddball, but so brilliant, so capable. But there's two things you need to know about him, Cara, two things he has so in common with your husband, which is part of the reason they don't get on, you know." She smirked. "Too much alike."

Cara's eyes were narrowed, and she frowned slightly, laying the baby down in the small cot they'd had ready for weeks. She sat down beside Narcissa and picked up her weak hand in two warm, gentle hands.

"What things?" Cara prompted. "What are these two things?"

Narcissa closed her eyes and said, "Excessive bravery and excessive loyalty to those they truly care about. It's how Sirius is in this mess, and how Severus got himself tangled up in our melodramas. He loved this Mudblood, you know, in school. We teased him about it, sometimes. But no matter what any of us thought about her, or what any of her friends thought about him, he was devoted to her. Like a puppy, you see? Came when she called. Like Sirius is with you."

Cara said nothing for a long time, perhaps several minutes, and Narcissa wondered just how long Sirius was going to be getting some air. She wanted him to hold Draco before he took Cara home, and he'd do better with it if he made a point of holding the child while he was sleeping. She just knew that it would hurt his ears, the crying of a baby.

"What happened to her?" Cara asked.

"Hmm?"

"The girl Severus loved."

"Oh, they…grew apart," Narcissa lied. "She married someone else. That's life, I suppose. He's still devastated about it. It's most of why he's single. The rest is that he's a bit too devoted to work to meet new people. When this is all over, I'm fixing that. I'll find him someone nice, whether he likes it or not."

She opened her eyes to see Cara standing, looking at the door like she wanted to leave, perhaps to get her husband, perhaps just to leave.

"Tell Sirius that if he's going to smoke by my gate," Narcissa said, "he'd damn well better clean up after himself, will you? Get him up here to say goodbye, Cara. Then I'll want a nap."

Cara smiled sadly, nodded, and went to fetch her husband. And Narcissa closed her eyes and wished she could heal Severus's wounds, because if anyone deserved a little bit of happiness, it was him.

/-/

Dorcas Meadowes opened the paper, and found that the Malfoys had welcomed into the world a newborn son. The blurb was short, sweet, and did not say who was at the Wiltshire manor when Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy became parents at last, but Dorcas would have been willing to bed that Sirius and Cara were among them.

Fabian sat down across from her and set tea at her wrist, but she ignored it. She was reading and rereading the blurb to get a sense of what social obligations she could conjure up to see the child, get a word with Narcissa, perhaps poke around the manor while Lucius was still away and Narcissa was still about bed.

"You're miles away, dove," Fabian whispered. "More deaths?"

"No," she said, "a birth. And maybe, If I'm lucky and very, very good, I'll have an opportunity as well."

"If that's the Malfoy birth, dove, don't do it."

She ignored him, too, as she ignored the tea. Dumbledore had given her a task, and she'd be damned if she let someone else's sentimentality or fears stop her from doing her bloody job. She set down the newspaper, as asked, and she glanced at the tea, frowning at the steam billowing off it. It reminded her of something, but she couldn't put her finger on what. Perhaps it wasn't important.

 **A/N: So, Draco is born. Harry's well on the way. Here's the big question –**

 **Review Prompt: What do you think Dorcas is going to do about her suspicions that Sirius might actually be working for Voldemort?**

 **-C**


	31. Sacrifices and Schemes

By the end of June, Cara had nearly finished remodeling the second floor. She was spending the last week finishing the second floor before moving on to the third floor. She'd just finished refurnishing the sitting room and study, and now she was standing in the last of the bedrooms on that floor, the final room that she would have to give orders for in the morning.

Narcissa visited twice a week to see how things were progressing, and Walburga kept beady eyes on all the workers, as though she expected any one of them to make off with something she thought precious.

And Cara smiled and moved forward, and kept firm on what she wanted. Sirius told her he loved everything, and she felt uneasy. The longer they went without news, without updates, without orders, the more uneasy she became.

She stepped into that last bedroom, crossed to the two beds, looked up at the high ceiling, and told herself that she would have it done in two days, and could move on to the third floor soon. It was the only way to keep herself sane.

/-/

Lily took the note Mad-Eye handed to her while James was putting away their grocery delivery, and Mad-Eye winked, grinning at her, turning his magical eye to her belly. At first, she'd found it unnerving, knowing he could see her child inside of her with that thing, that he knew what little Harry looked like. Now, it was almost a comfort.

"Well?" she asked, smiling, stuffing the note in her jean pocket hastily. "How does he look today?"

"He's sleeping," Mad-Eye said. "Peaceful. We've got, what, about a month left to wait?"

"Maybe a month and a half or so," she said, tucking a strand of hair behind hear ear. "James, I'll be back soon. Got to use the toilet."

That should buy her enough time, she thought bitterly. It took her forever to do simple things like that, and she had to use the toilet frequently anymore. James wanted to be with her every moment, not that anything was going to happen to her while she was peeing. He'd relented on that one point.

When she got into the bathroom, she pulled out the note and unfolded it. In Albus's smooth hand, she read that her sister had given birth to a son, named him Dudley, on the 23rd of June, two days prior.

The strangest thing about it, she realized, as she burned the note and flushed the ashes down the toilet, was that she didn't know how she felt. In a way, she was proud of her sister, pleased that she seemed to have found her own kind of happiness, foreign and hostile as it was to Lily. But mostly, she felt an eerie sense of loss. Their children would not grow up as friends, maybe would be complete strangers to each other. James might have thought he was being clever about it, but she knew how much he hated her sister and brother-in-law. She knew that if he had his way, Harry would have nothing to do with this Dudley, and that Petunia and her husband would be glad to keep it that way.

And maybe, she thought, checking her expression in the mirror, this was for the best, for all of them.

/-/

Taking out her notes, Cara began making notations on what to do about the furniture. New bedside tables, new twin beds, and a new wardrobe. She thought the wastebasket needed replacing as well, and she was pleased with the new door and fresh paint job done for the room. She turned around to look at the door, and she saw a framed portrait of a snide-looking man she hadn't met before in other portraits in the house.

"Oh," she said, realizing he had been watching her. "Hello."

"Indeed," he said, narrowing his eyes at her. "I suppose you're responsible for the changes around here, are you?"

She shifted, wondering if this was a portrait to keep, or get rid of, or perhaps put in Walburga's bedroom. She sensed he shared her mother-in-law's obsession with the past.

"Ah, yes, I'm—"

"I know who you are, child," he said coldly. "A bastard child married to my wayward progeny. Walburga tells me your magic is weak. Almost nonexistent. Which is why I have never seen you about Hogwarts."

Cara said nothing. She had a feeling this was a man who expected her to know her place, and from what he'd just said, he certainly saw her place as well beneath him. She looked down slightly, fixing her gaze on the hem of her plum robes, the back of her neck going warm.

"A pretty thing, I suppose," he said, his voice stuffy and biting. "But then, you'd have to be to tempt Sirius back to this place. He was quite insistent that he would never come back again. Merlin's sake, look at me, child, will you? If you're supposed to be the lady of the house, you need to at least be able to look a portrait in the eye."

She did as he said, looking him in the eye, feeling smaller and smaller by the minute, but she tried to remember everything Narcissa had told her, holding her head up high, setting her jaw, breathing to keep her expression serene and steady.

His nostrils flared slightly, and he nodded in what seemed to be approval as he said, "I am Phineas Nigellus Black, and you, I have been told, are Cara Black, née Selwyn. I see something of Lestrange about your nose and cheekbones."

"Yes, sir," she said, raising an eyebrow. "My father was a Lestrange, my mother a Selwyn by marriage. Thus, Selwyn."

He tilted his head, perhaps as a nonverbal way of asking her to turn around, but she didn't, simply raising her eyebrows higher, hoping to exude an air of impatience she'd seen Narcissa use a time or two. Perhaps he got tired of waiting for her to do something, or perhaps he understood her expression as she hoped, but he finally said, "I would appreciate it, when you move the furniture around in here, if you would move my portrait to another room while the work is done, and move me back when it is finished."

"That's reasonable," she said. "I'll have Kreacher do it."

His lips twitched with amusement, and then he said, "And I expect, child, that you visit me weekly, at the least. There is a great deal for you to learn about family history, as I am sure your husband retains none of his childhood lessons on the subject."

Cara breathed in and out deeply once before tilting her head gently to the right and saying, bored as she could manage, "I will see how much time I can carve out for your entertainment, sir. I do my best to keep busy, you understand."

This time, Phineas Nigellus flat-out smirked, an expression eerily similar to Sirius's smirks, and he said, "Excellent. I believe I can make a lady out of you, yet, child."

She didn't know whether to be flattered or insulted.

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Sirius was greeted at the gate by Rabastan, who smirked at the sight of him.

"Ah, so it's you," he teased. "You always turn up when you know Bella's not around, don't you? Did Narcissa tell you they were visiting her today, or do you have some kind of sixth sense?"

Sirius ignored his brother-in-law's teasing, following as he was let in through the gate, into the manor, and to Rabastan's personal study, where he was offered a glass of firewhiskey. Sirius accepted the offer, but instead of taking a seat, he stood by the back window, looking out over the garden.

"We have work to do. And I'm here about the future," he said softly. "Cat's future."

Rabastan settled in an armchair, and Sirius didn't have to look to know the man was smirking at him. It was something almost endemic with purebloods. They couldn't help but smirk when they thought they were clever. Sometimes, Sirius hated that he picked up that trait and couldn't seem to drop it no matter how long he was away from them.

"Why do you still call her that?" Rabastan asked. "Catherine was a fantasy, a girl who never was, haphazardly created by Bella to lure you in and destroy your precious little rebel life. Cara is not Catherine."

"She is, Rabastan," he said. "She is Catherine in all the ways you lot can't possibly understand. It's Cara Selwyn who never was, because she never had an opportunity to be anything, locked away all her life. Catherine is more real than Cara ever was, and as far as I'm concerned, my wife is Cat. And she always will be."

His fingers, his lungs, they itched for a cigarette, but Sirius held firm and sipped his firewhiskey as his brother-in-law pulled out the papers they were supposed to be reviewing and delivering to Ministry officials. Rookwood, in particular.

"How often have you planted false documents?" Sirius asked when he no longer heard the rustling of papers. He turned around to see the files laid out on the table, and he crossed to the table, setting down his glass and leaning over them.

"A time or two."

Sirius didn't press, although his curiosity was prickled. The most interesting thing about what Rabastan had said was the way he'd said the words, like he wasn't at all pleased with this task. Rabastan had always been a physical man, working with action, his hands, preferring to get a little bit dirty. This was the sort of work that should be done by Lucius, not men like Sirius and Rabastan, so why was Voldemort passing off the paperwork?

In the case of Rabastan, it could be ease of access and availability, but Sirius thought this might be a test of loyalty and submission for himself.

"Have you heard from Barty lately?" Rabastan asked.

"No," he said, scratching his head. "The Dark Lord warned him off Cat, so I haven't really expected to. I thought you would have done. Doesn't he practically live at Bella's feet?"

"Well, that's the odd thing, isn't it," Rabastan said, raising his eyebrows. "I haven't seen him in months, nor has Bella. I think he might be dead."

Sirius nodded slowly, thoughtfully. He had to be careful what he said, but at least he had some leeway to be bitter and angry about Barty.

"Well, he wouldn't be the first, for sure. I wouldn't be sorry if I found out he was, but I'm sure you're not surprised."

"No word from the Order?" Rabastan asked.

Perhaps this really was some kind of loyalty test, or a probing for information, but from whom? Not Voldemort, but maybe Bella, or maybe Lucius.

"If they know anything," Sirius said, carefully, but honestly, "they've not breathed a word of it with me present. But if I hear something, you'll be the second to know."

Rabastan frowned slightly and nodded at the reminder of their master, and with that, they returned to reviewing the documents they were working with, to make certain every detail of their scam was flawless. Then, Sirius could talk with him about his real reason for wanting to catch Rabastan alone – wills.

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Kreacher was in the kitchen making lunch when Cara caught up with him, taking her notes on how to brighten up the third floor corridor with her to make a cup of tea.

"Oh, Kreacher?" she said, smiling at him. "I wondered if I could ask you to do something for me."

"Yes, Mistress."

She didn't really have to be so polite to him, but he seemed so much happier when she buttered him up, and it was worth doing, she thought. Even Sirius seemed less glum about living in the house when Kreacher was cheerful.

"There's a painting on the second floor," she said, stirring in a bit of sugar for her tea. "Phineas Nigellus, I think he said his name was?"

"Yes, Mistress," he said, nodding eagerly that he knew the painting, his ears flopping slightly with the motion.

"When I have the workers doing the furnishings in his room, I want him moved, and then moved back again when they've gone. He seems to be anxious not to be around the workers. I hope that won't be too much trouble."

Kreacher assured her it would be no trouble at all, as she knew he would say, and she thanked him. She lifted the cup to her lips, feeling a slight radiation of warmth on her upper lip before taking a few quick sips.

"Does he have another portrait somewhere?" she asked. "Only I don't recall him being there when I was in the room before, and I can't think of any time I've seen him around the house."

Kreacher explained to her that Phineas Nigellus Black had been a Hogwarts headmaster, and all Hogwarts headmasters had portraits in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts. It seemed so obvious when he said it, but she hadn't thought of it at the time. However, she thought it might become useful one day, should they need to contact Albus Dumbledore urgently. Phineas might yet serve a purpose, so it was important that she played his game for the moment, allow him to believe he was molding her the way he wanted, and perhaps flatter his vanity.

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Because of the protections, Severus couldn't actually know where Lily lived, but he knew it was somewhere in Godric's Hollow. Because of the prophecy, he also knew it wasn't safe for him to be in Godric's Hollow, just in case the Dark Lord tried to burn down the whole village instead of wait for a way to get to them specifically. Although unlike Bellatrix, the Dark Lord preferred precision instruments to blunt ones.

The end of Severus's trial period as an apprentice professor was coming to an end, and in several months he would begin his first full year as a full professor. He tried not to think about Lily, about what she would say if she could see him now.

Still, Severus thought of Lily with almost everything in his life. It was why he still lived in Cokeworth, in that awful house where he grew up. It was why he'd pushed through his absolute despising of Black to accomplish all they had done against the Dark Lord. It was why he had risked death to give the prophecy to the Dark Lord.

The only comfort he had, looking out at the Muggle streetlamps as they flickered, was that Lily couldn't be the one in the prophecy, and if something went wrong, it wouldn't be her suffering for it. At least, not physically.

/-/

Sirius came home to find Cara on the third floor, frowning into a cupboard and scribbling rapidly on a roll of parchment.

"What's the matter, love?" he asked.

"Linen cupboard for this floor," she said, turning to kiss him.

"What about it?"

"We should probably just burn it out and start over again."

He raised his eyebrows, amused, sure that she was exaggerating. It couldn't possibly be as bad as all that.

But when he looked over her shoulder into the cupboard, he could see what she meant. The cupboard itself was moldy, mildewed, with linens really not fit for anything except destruction. He wondered how long it had been since they'd had guests on the third floor, and he supposed it wouldn't have been since he was a child, since his cousins would occasionally come to stay.

"Ah," he said, scratching his chin as she wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder. "Yeah, work it out with Kreacher. Do what you've got to do. I doubt we've got much in the house that's worse, though, except maybe the attic. When it comes time for cleaning that out, leave it to me and Kreacher, okay?"

Cara hesitated, probably trying to decide whether or not he was being over-protective of her. He wouldn't have bothered saying it, though, if it were a matter of a bad case of mold. But there were likely things living in the attic, or cursed items dating back generations that would need to be handled with care and a quick wand. When she decided that he was thinking about her safety and not some kind of over-zealous protectiveness, she said that she would leave the attic to him.

"Kreacher's got roast lamb for us today," Sirius said. "Why don't we go have a bite to eat and you can tell me all about your plans for the third floor bedrooms."

She sighed, but she agreed, and he led her down to the kitchens, where Kreacher was laying out two plates and cups. Sirius asked where his mother was, although secretly pleased that it was only the two of them. Kreacher said that Sirius's mother had a terrible headache, and that she would not be up to joining them.

"Kreacher," Sirius said as the elf was about to retreat to his little nest in the boiler room. "In the next couple of days, when you have a moment, check in on the attic and see what sorts of infestations we may have up there."

"Yes, Master."

He waved Kreacher off as Cara poured them both a glass of water, and she said, "Where were you today?"

"Oh, business," he said loftily, not meeting her eyes. "I saw your brother, as it happens, at the Ministry. He says hello."

"Rabastan, then."

He smiled, shrugging, thinking of how unsavory Augustus Rookwood was, and how much damage those documents could do to innocent and even a few truly good people. But Sirius kept telling himself that it was only a matter of weeks, perhaps months, until they found out, once and for all, if they could truly get rid of Voldemort.

Sirius took Cara's hand before she could pick up her knife, and he lifted it to his lips, pressing tender kisses along her knuckles. She frowned slightly and said, "Is everything alright, Sirius?"

"Of course," he lied. "Everything is perfect."

 **A/N: Just three chapters left of Part 1! Want those chapters to come quickly? (You know you do) Ten reviews earns a bonus update! I know you're all itching to get to Part 2. I know I am. If you missed a chapter in reviewing, backtracking and reviewing earlier chapters counts. Already reviewed but anxious for a quicker update? You could always sign out and give guest reviews. ;) (I've actually had readers do that on other stories…)**

 **Review Prompt: Whose storyline for Part Two are you most eager for me to tease at the end of Part 1? No spoilers, just teasers. ;) I'll try to fit in all requests, so get 'em in now! NOTE: if your requested character dies off in the next couple of chapters, you can always request another?**

 **-C**


	32. A Stab in the Back

Sirius hated these meaningless celebrations. Especially knowing that Lily could have the baby any day, knowing from the paper that Frank and Alice had given birth to their son, Neville, the last place Sirius wanted to be was Lestrange Manor, at another ridiculous party for absolutely nothing at all. Cara looked beautiful, walking with Narcissa, who had enough strength now to attend these events after a great deal of rest. Sirius exchanged a glance with Snape before letting his gaze trace the room again to see who was present.

Keeping track of everyone was enormously difficult. It was hard enough to remember the names of all the silly people who followed Voldemort, or who married followers of Voldemort. And then there were those who tagged along in society and had nothing to do with Voldemort, like Madam Selwyn or Dorcas Meadows.

Sirius frowned. There was a thought. Where was Dorcas?

He was sure he had seen her come in, that he had seen her speaking with Madam Selwyn, that he had seen her whispering something in the corner to Narcissa, who had gone pale and pushed her away, attaching herself to Cara from thence forward.

What had Dorcas done, and more importantly, where was she now?

He set down his glass and crossed to Severus, who frowned with questioning curiosity, but Sirius said nothing, made no sign of what he was about to say. The last thing they needed was to draw attention of anyone to their conversation. The fewer people who were pulled in, the better.

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Dorcas tried not to shiver as she looked across the small drawing room at Voldemort. He was, as Sirius had said, more monster than man. There had never been a question that this grayish, snake-like, incredibly thin and tall thing was Voldemort. When he entered, where Rabastan had brought her – presumably on Voldemort's orders – he had regarded her with such easy amusement that she even momentarily felt afraid.

But as she reminded herself repeatedly as he pulled out his wand, turning it over in his hands, the worst he could do was kill her.

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After several turns around the room, Cara and Narcissa paused to give Narcissa a breath of fresh air by the French doors out to the balcony. Cara glanced around the crowd, hoping to get a glimpse of her husband to know what he was up to, who he was speaking to. She was growing increasingly anxious about his activities, his requirements for the Dark Lord.

"Where's Sirius?" she asked, glancing around the room, unable to spot him.

Narcissa frowned as well, eyes narrowing as she scanned the crowd, seeming to grow agitated upon not finding him.

"He was with Severus," Narcissa said softly. "I saw Sirius approach Severus about something. But now I don't see either of them. He wouldn't leave the Manor without telling you."

No, he certainly wouldn't, Cara thought, glancing through the crowd again. She walked Narcissa over to the drinks on the far side, getting Narcissa turned over to her husband before making her excuses to the toilet. Narcissa watched Cara leave with narrowed eyes, but Cara ignored her friend's concern. She had to find her husband.

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As Cara left, Lucius held out his arm to his wife, who took it without looking at it. Narcissa was deep in thought, wondering what was going on, and whether she could get away to do something about it. She had a terrible feeling that she would endanger her friends by not looking for them, but that she would endanger herself by looking. After so much time trying to regain her strength, she wasn't confident that she would be of any use in a fight, perhaps even less than Cara.

"You visited Grimmauld Place yesterday morning, did you not?" Lucius said, steering Narcissa back toward the gardens.

"What?" she asked. "Oh, yes, Grimmauld Place." Would Cara come straight back, or would Narcissa have to wonder for some time? And what if the men came back before Cara found them? "Yes, I went."

"Has Cara Black made something of the house?"

"She's finished nearly everything," Narcissa said, glancing toward the door again, anxiously. "They're trying to decide what to do with Regulus's old room, for obvious reasons. Cara isn't sure about moving anything, and she's worried that Sirius or Walburga will want it left untouched."

A life-long skill of Narcissa's was to say things that mattered absolutely not at all while thinking about things that were critical. It helped her to manage with her husband, helped her to survive growing up with Bella as a sister. She thanked Lucius mildly as he handed her a glass of wine.

She would distract herself, she decided, with conversations about her son, about the redecoration of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, about her annual plans for the garden and what she was going to do about the freesias this year.

Turning her husband toward Madam Greengrass, she sought out just such a conversation, ignoring her husband's hesitation to get himself embroiled in such a messy, feminine conversation, but as he had been since Draco's birth, Lucius indulged his wife and patiently smiled as the two women began to gossip about children.

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It didn't take long for Severus and Sirius to find Dorcas Meadows, but what they weren't expecting was to find her, bound, at the feet of the Dark Lord, her eyes surprisingly devoid of fear. Rabastan stood in the back corner, and he frowned slightly when he saw Sirius and Severus in the doorway.

"Enter, Severus, Sirius," the Dark Lord said, without turning to see who was there. Severus realized that he must have scanned Rabastan's mind to see what had caught his attention. The two men entered quickly, as ordered.

Sirius looked down at Dorcas and swallowed visibly, walking around in front of the Dark Lord, where Severus stayed toward the back of the room, wishing to evaporate into the back wall. He wanted to see, but not be a part of the events that would surely undergo. From what he could scan from Meadows's mind, she was almost certainly going to be killed for spying on the Death Eaters and their families and reporting back to Dumbledore.

"Perhaps you know Dorcas Meadows," the Dark Lord said, smiling vaguely. "She certainly knows you, Sirius."

Severus held his breath, wondering how much exactly the Dark Lord had learned from her, or from her mind.

"She is much cleverer than Dumbledore, it would seem," the Dark Lord continued. "She doesn't trust you, Sirius. She thinks your loyalties lie with whoever can protect your wife. A clever woman, to understand so keenly your weaknesses."

Severus glanced at Sirius, who was still looking at Dorcas, perhaps to avoid meeting the Dark Lord's gaze.

"Indeed," he said, more murmured than spoken. If Sirius was doing as Severus taught him, as Severus was doing, he would be focusing on what he knew of Dorcas, not relief, not what she knew of him. He would be thinking of anything but his relief at not being discovered.

"Well, we cannot have her telling Dumbledore, now can we?" the Dark Lord said, and Sirius said nothing, frowning at Dorcas thoughtfully as though trying to decide something.

/-/

James was just about to put out the light for the night when Lily gasped suddenly, yelping upstairs. In a panic, he rushed up to her, horrified that something was wrong, that something bad had happened to the baby. He found her gripping the bedsheet, gritting her teeth.

"My water broke," she said through her clenched jaw. "Get Dumbledore."

For a moment, James didn't know what to do, but his wife's scream yanked him back into the moment and he hurried down to the fireplace, afraid to leave her side and afraid to be anywhere near her all at once.

"Dumbledore," he muttered to himself. "Get Dumbledore. Broken water."

He paused. What did that mean? Was the baby coming?

Merlin, he thought, picking up a healthy amount of Floo powder. The baby was coming.

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Cara stood in the shadows, trying to get a better look at what was going on in the room across the corridor. Rabastan was inside, in the back corner, and Severus must be there somewhere, although she couldn't see him. She could see the Dark Lord, his wand out, Sirius, watching a bound figure on the floor and…

Dorcas Meadows, Cara realized. That was Dorcas Meadows on the floor. Although Cara hadn't known the full purpose of Dorcas in the Order, she knew it was something like what Sirius was doing. A spy, but not as committed.

"Sirius, would you care to do the honors, or shall I?"

Cara's stomach twisted, not even so much at the words as at the sound of that high, cold voice, like something that resonated at the very top of her nasal cavity.

"No, my Lord," Sirius said, and he sounded like someone else. It wasn't her Sirius, not the man who was so warm and kind and gentle, who smiled at her with a brightness that could melt the winter itself. This was some other Sirius, his voice dark and sharp and almost bitter. It hurt her to hear him speak like this.

Although she couldn't see his face, Cara could tell by the shift of his shoulder, the change in his voice, that the Dark Lord was no longer amused. In fact, he sounded almost disappointed in Sirius.

"Very well," he said. His wand turned on Dorcas, but as he said the spell to either torture or kill Dorcas – Cara couldn't hear – Sirius whipped out his own wand and shielded the woman.

The room, the corridor, perhaps the whole world fell still and silent at this act, and the Dark Lord's wand dropped slightly as Sirius met his gaze, confident, defiant.

"She knows your secrets, Sirius," the Dark Lord said. "She needs to be punished. Do you not agree?"

"No," Sirius said. "No, I don't agree."

Cara turned her back to the room, looking for something, anything, to help Sirius, because it was only a matter of time before he was punished. And he didn't seem ready to back down, and if he didn't back down, he would be killed, and she wasn't about to let that happen. He was the best thing in her life, the only thing that mattered, and she wasn't going to let him slip away.

Her eyes were drawn to a suit of armor up the hall. Cara crept toward it as her husband spoke, and she heard the Dark Lord say quite plainly, "Then perhaps I have no further use of you. _Crucio._ "

She felt a rush of panic, and also a rush of pride at the silence. She'd experienced a Cruciatus Curse or two, mainly from her father or Bellatrix. Only her imagination could tell her what it would be like to suffer a Cruciatus Curse from the Dark Lord, and she knew she had to find something. Sirius might be silent now, but it wouldn't last long.

The suit had a sword, although she couldn't be certain it was sharp, but there was no time to check. She carefully, cautiously pried it out of the suit's gauntlet, biting her lip to keep from breathing too heavily as she worked to remove the sword without a sound. She hurried back up the corridor when she had the sword in hand, her mind recalling something Rabastan had said to her once about turning your back, and she saw Sirius hissing, forcing his eyes open, stubbornly standing when the Dark Lord clearly wanted him on his knees. His eyes flashed with recognition as she burst into the room, but no one had a moment to register what he had seen before she plunged the sword through the Dark Lord.

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From his place in the center of the room, Sirius barely noticed the spell lifting, so shocked he was to see Cara drive a sword through Voldemort. And then, to everyone's astonishment, she pulled it out and drove it in again, higher up, and then yet again.

The red eyes of Voldemort were wide, and his thin, pale lips opened, and blood trickled onto his chin. Sirius felt painful dryness in his throat, and Voldemort's voice sounded thick and alien as he said, "Strange."

Sirius swallowed, although his mouth was too dry to do much good. He watched, they all watched as his wife stabbed him through twice more before Voldemort's eyes glassed over and his body fell to the floor. The other three people in the sitting room stared at her, stunned, until Cara's knees gave out and she fainted, collapsing into a growing pool of Voldemort's blood.

"What just happened?" Rabastan asked, horrified, but the others ignored him.

"I don't understand," Sirius said, watching Severus sweep across the room to check for vital signs on both Voldemort and Cara. "The prophecy."

"What prophecy?" Rabastan demanded.

"He's dead," Severus said, trembling slightly as he stepped back. "He's dead."

"But the bloody prophecy!" Sirius cried.

Severus looked up at Sirius thoughtfully for a moment before he turned his back to them. As he knelt beside Cara he said, "Untie Miss Meadows, Black."

Sirius did his best, although his muscles continued to twitch. Dorcas, he found, was also trembling, and as soon as she was free her mouth was working without sound.

"Soon," he said, raising a hand, turning back to Severus. "Well?"

Severus was pressing his wand to where Cara's bellybutton was, through her dress. He was muttering some kind of spell, but his voice was so low, and Sirius couldn't see his lips, and he just clutched his hands together, then pulled them apart. Then together, then apart.

Then Cara's abdomen glowed gold through her dress robes, and Sirius actually dropped his wand.

"What is that?" Sirius demanded. "What's happened?"

"Don't worry, she's alive," Severus said, siphoning the blood off of her hands and dress before standing and looking at the others. "And as to the prophecy, Black, I doubt she even knows."

"Knows what?" Sirius said.

Severus raised his eyebrows and said, "Your wife is pregnant, Black. About three weeks."

Sirius nearly lost his balance when his knees gave out, but Rabastan grabbed his arm and helped him lean against a nearby desk.

"You're going to tell me what's going on," Rabastan said firmly, "and you're going to tell me now, or I'm calling for Bella."

With a snort, Sirius buried his face in his hand and said, "It's kind of a long story, but basically, we've been working to make your precious Dark Lord mortal again, and now your sister's killed him and she's carrying my child." He laughed. "Can you believe that? A month pregnant with my baby."

Rabastan stared at him for a long moment before turning to look at Cara, who was still unconscious on the floor.

"She did that," he said softly. "She stabbed the most powerful wizard in the world to save you."

"She's done a lot more than that," Severus said, siphoning blood from the floor. "She's passed Dark items to the Order. She's stolen things from your Gringotts vault."

With a short laugh, Rabastan must have realized that he was somehow a cog in the wheel, and he crossed the room to kneel beside Cara, brushing a bit of hair out of her face before pressing a kiss to her temple.

"We've got to figure out what to do," he said, running his fingers through her dark waves. "We can't let her be found like this."

"I have an idea," Severus said, "but we need someone to cause a diversion and get the guests out of here, and then we need to get your brother and sister-in-law in this room, outnumbered."

"You're going to kill them?" Rabastan said mildly.

"I'm only killing Rudolphous if he fights," Sirius said mildly. "But as far as I'm concerned, Bella's dead already."

"Well, then," Rabastan said, smirking, "Madam Meadows, we need to find Madam Malfoy and get something rolling to get the guests to leave. I'll leave this mess in your hands, gentlemen."

Dorcas, still trembling, went back out to the party, and Severus levitated Cara.

"I'm going to take her to the cellar," Severus said softly, "and I'm going to Stun her so she doesn't wake prematurely. Then I'm coming back, and we'll hide."

"I hate hiding," Sirius snarled.

Severus raised an eyebrow, however, and Sirius sighed, nodding. After all, this man was getting Sirius's pregnant wife out of the line of fire. The least he could do was follow through with the plan that would, hopefully, get all of them off the hook.

Sirius rubbed his sweating, trembling hands on his dress robes and tried pointedly not to look at the corpse on the floor beside him as he picked up his wand.

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As requested by her brother-in-law, Narcissa feigned a fainting fit in the middle of the ballroom. For the sake of propriety, this meant her sister had to shut down the event, as Lucius took Narcissa home.

"What's going on?" Lucius asked when they arrived back in Wiltshire and she was wide awake. "What was it that Rabastan said to you?"

She smiled, patted his cheek, and said, "Never you mind, darling. Ask me in the morning and depending on the newspaper, I might just tell you."

Although she exuded confidence to her husband, Narcissa was terrified. Rabastan had told her that Cara killed the Dark Lord, and that he needed her to clear the guests out so they could take care of the evidence.

Narcissa hadn't expected it to be Cara. Sirius, perhaps, or Severus, but she hadn't expected Cara to do something so base.

On the other hand, it was done, and if she made it through the next few days alright, Narcissa could see the light at the end of the tunnel. She would have to send a message to Dumbledore, and soon, because she suspected the men would be too busy.

 **A/N: Two chapters left and then Part Two! So… nobody guessed Cara, but a couple of you guessed Narcissa, which I would call quite close. Want to know what they do with Bellatrix, how they mop things up, what's going on with Harry's birth? Ten reviews earns early updates!**

 **Review Prompt: Okay, tell me for real now, what do you think of Voldemort being killed entirely without magic?**

 **-C**


	33. Clean-Up

Sirius turned over the options Severus was giving him. Be the bait, or have the kill. He despised Bella, he knew Bella, and he felt fairly confident that he could kill Bella. He wanted to kill Bella.

But should he ask Severus Snape to be the bait? Yes, Snape was offering, but was this Sirius's inner Gryffindor reacting rashly, or was he making the right decision?

"What about this," he said, glancing at the door to be certain the corridor was still clear. "What about I be the bait, you immobilize them, because you're better at nonverbal spells, and I kill them?"

"If I immobilize them both," Severus warned, "we're only killing Bella and we are sending her husband to prison if he doesn't cooperate."

Sirius wanted time to consider it, but there wasn't any time, and he didn't want to argue the point when Rabastan might turn on them if they killed his brother. And they needed Rabastan on their side. They needed to protect Cara.

"Alright," he said. "You hide. I'll be the bait."

Severus melted into the shadows.

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"Why won't she stop screaming?" James asked Mad-Eye, despairing, as Lily and Dumbledore had kicked them both out of the room. "Is something wrong? Is she dying?"

"It's apparently perfectly normal," Mad-Eye said. "Come on, lad. Get some firewhiskey in you and calm down or she won't want to see you when she's had the child, either."

James didn't really want firewhiskey, but anything that might make Lily happier had to be a good choice, he reasoned, especially with the state she was in.

The clock struck midnight.

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The clock struck midnight. Severus could hear footsteps, but his view of the corridor was blocked by Sirius Black, who was standing over the corpse of the Dark Lord, his back actively turned to the door to seem off his guard. Black's fists were clenched around his wand, but he wasn't at the ready. Severus knew that Black was counting on him to keep Bella from killing him without a second thought.

Black was at his mercy, more so than ever before in their lives, and for one fleeting moment Severus thought that perhaps it would be worthwhile to hesitate ever-so-slightly, to allow Black to be killed or injured before dispatching of Bella. After all, it would be the perfect revenge for Black's childhood wrongs, all his bullying.

But Narcissa and Cara would never forgive him, and Severus wasn't sure he could bring himself to betray Black's trust in that way, not after Black so obviously was being the bait in order to make some kind of amends. It wouldn't be a good start to Severus's new life without the Dark Lord if he betrayed an ally like that.

And it was too late to change his mind, because Rabastan had led Bellatrix and Rudolphus to the study, likely on the pretext of an intruder or hearing a struggle.

Sirius whipped around, giving Severus the smallest of windows to wordlessly Stun Bellatrix, who was the one with wand at ready. Black quickly put up a Shield for Severus, who was now the target as he stepped out of the shadows, and Severus was grateful he hadn't decided on betrayal. He bound Rudolphus, who lost his balance from the tight bindings, and was only spared a hard fall to the floor by his brother, who used a charm to slow the fall.

"Now what?" Rabastan asked, stepping over Bella and crossing the room.

"Now we set the scene," Sirius said, smirking. He pulled the sword out of the Dark Lord, placed the hilt in Bella's limp hand, and took a step back.

"What good does that do?" Rabastan asked as Rudolphus struggled fruitlessly against his bonds.

"Watch," Severus said, feeling himself smirking as he watched Black raise his wand, knowing without a doubt what spell he would use.

" _Sectumsempra_ ," Black spat at her, and the four men watched as her chest began to bleed profusely, the life leaving her. Black waited until she was certainly dead before opening her eyes and carefully sealing her hand around the hilt of the sword so that when rigor mortis set in, she would be grasping it.

Satisfied, Rabastan leaned over his brother and raised an eyebrow.

"Here's how this is going to work," he said softly. "You are going to be given a choice. Either you corroborate the story Severus is about to tell you and you go free, or you allow us to use a Memory Charm without struggle and you go to Azkaban. If you struggle, we kill you. Clear?"

Rudolphus hesitated, but then he nodded. Severus spun the tale, how Bellatrix, mad with jealousy – not a difficult thing to believe – threatened the Dark Lord, threatened to leave, and the Dark Lord tortured her. She grabbed the sword, ran him through, and as she stabbed him, he killed her.

Rudolphus narrowed his eyes, obviously trying to figure out what really happened. Severus very much doubted that he would ever figure it out, as Cara wasn't present and Sirius or Severus or Rabastan would likely be covering their own skin. He tilted his head, and then began to struggle again, and Sirius shook his head.

"He's not going to go with it," he said. "Rabastan, you make the choice. Obliviate him or kill him. It doesn't make a difference to me. Where's Dorcas?"

"She's gone to report to her master," Rabastan said, drawing his wand and grinning. "So I expect the authorities will be along before the daylight comes."

Severus nodded to Sirius, telling him that he would watch Rabastan, which should give Sirius enough time to get his wife home, give instructions to his house-elf, and return. Things were moving quickly, but if they could make it through the next twenty-four hours, everything would become easier, slower, smoother.

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Sirius took Cara up in his arms, smiling to himself as he thought of the news he had, the news he would share with her when she woke. But first, they had to be sure she was safe, that she wouldn't be blamed for murder, even if it was murder of the most dangerous, most wanted wizard in Britain.

He checked that she was still very much unconscious before standing, holding her tightly to support her, and carrying her to the top of the stairs, where the Apparition wards ended. As soon as they stood at the top of the stairs, he turned on his heel and Disapparated them to the front step of Grimmauld Place.

Once inside the house, he called out for Kreacher, who appeared before him instantly.

"Cara is Stunned, and she should remain asleep until I come back," he said. "See that she's in bed and comfortable, and if she should happen to wake early, I command you to put her back to sleep. Understood?"

"Yes, Master."

Sirius hesitated, glancing up the stairs to the third floor landing.

"And, Kreacher? Don't say anything about either of us to my mother until I've had a chance to speak with her. There's a lot I'll have to explain."

"Yes, Master."

Kreacher took Cara from Sirius, levitating her up the stairs, and Sirius tore his gaze away from them, knowing he was needed at Lestrange Manor. When Dumbledore arrived, when the authorities came, he had to be there to corroborate the story. To help clear the names of his cousin and wife, of Dorcas and Rabastan, of himself and Severus Snape.

What a long day it was going to be.

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Pacing at the gates to the Hogwarts grounds, Dorcas grew anxious and agitated, wondering what was keeping someone from greeting her. Where was Dumbledore? Didn't he understand that the world was changing?

It was not Dumbledore who greeted her, but Minerva McGonagall.

"Dorcas?" the woman said, puzzled. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I need to see Professor Dumbledore," Dorcas said as the gates opened. "It's terribly urgent."

"He's not here," she said. "He's gone to the Potters' house."

"Not here?" Dorcas cried, feeling a stab of desperation. "How can he not be here? This is terribly urgent!"

"Yes, you mentioned," Minerva said, leading her up toward the castle. "He's delivering a baby, Dorcas. That's terribly urgent as well."

"You don't understand," Dorcas said, waving her hand to push this argument away. The baby would come or it wouldn't. What was happening, it was happening, and it needed the right hand to guide it forward. "Voldemort is dead."

Minerva's foot caught something on the path and she stumbled, nearly to the ground, but Dorcas caught her.

"I see," she said, pursing her lips, perhaps skeptically, perhaps thoughtfully, but Dorcas was too frantic to care. "Come with me. I have an idea."

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Albus wrapped the blinking baby in a clean, fluffy blanket and handed him to Lily, who whose limbs were weak with exhaustion.

"You did very well, my dear," he said. "Shall I fetch your husband?"

She nodded, smiling at the little baby who already had a small dusting of jet-black hair. He opened the door to find James already hurrying up the corridor anxiously, his eyes wide with trepidation and wonder.

"The baby," he said. "The baby?"

"Inside," Albus said, stepping back to let James hurry in to his wife's side.

Before Albus could close the door, giving them some time alone with their new son, there was a sudden flash of flame and a single red plume with a note in Minerva's handwriting.

"What is it?" Lily asked hoarsely. "Is everything alright?"

Albus's eyebrow twitched with astonishment as he turned over the note to find it was blank on the back.

"Better than that, my dear," he said, smiling at her. "I am afraid I have to leave you. I'm needed at Lestrange Manor."

"What?" James asked, his head jerking up as he wrapped his arms around the small child in a blanket. "Lestrange Manor, are you sure?"

"I certainly am," he said happily. "It would seem, according to Dorcas, that Lord Voldemort has been killed."

James looked like he might drop the baby with shock, but when little Harry cried, he remembered himself and adjusted his hold to comfort the newborn. Lily sat up a bit more and said, "Albus, I need to see Sirius. I need to know he's alright. I need to see Sirius and Cate."

He should have had no worries about bringing her along under normal circumstances, but she was clearly too weak to move, and he shook his head, gently pressing her hand.

"Not just yet, Lily. I will tell him of the baby, and I will bring them both to see you as soon as it is safe. There are many loose ends to tie up."

She nodded her understanding, but she was disappointed. Albus did not worry. She and James had a newborn to keep them occupied until they received more news.

What Albus really wanted to know was who the prophecy ended up foretelling, if not James Potter.

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Sirius and Dumbledore arrived within minutes of each other, and Severus and Rabastan were nearly done arranging the blood to go with their cover story.

"What is all this?" Dumbledore said, frowning.

"Necessary," Sirius said darkly. "Bella's taking the official fall."

"Why?" he asked as Rabastan unbound his unconscious brother.

"Because Cara did it," Sirius said softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Cara's the one who killed him, and a murder is still a murder. The attention would…. Well. She wants a quiet life. This way, two people who needed to die have killed each other, officially, and no one goes to prison except the Death Eaters who are going to be rounded up."

"And that's your first one," Rabastan said, sitting down, conjuring a glass of water to clear his last spell. He nodded at his brother, and Dumbledore nodded, understanding. He bent over the body of the Dark Lord

He said, "Cara is pregnant, then?"

"Yes," Sirius said, unable to hide his pride, his smile. "She doesn't know yet. She's been taken home, unconscious. I'll wake her when this story goes through officially and I have a moment to take care of her."

"You will have to speak to your mother as well," Dumbledore said. "I will go to the Ministry and submit all of your names as spies. Cara, Narcissa, and Andromeda as well."

"Andromeda?" Rabastan asked, stunned. "Andromeda Black?"

"Tonks," Sirius said with a grin, conjuring his own glass of water. "How do you think my wife and cousin smuggled things to Albus Dumbledore, of all wizards?"

Rabastan rubbed his forehead and said, "Perhaps, while we wait for the authorities, you can start over at the beginning and explain to me how this all worked out."

Severus used his wand to stoke the fireplace, nodded to Dumbledore, who was leaving, and then sat down with the other two men, ignoring the corpses and unconscious body at the front of the room.

"The beginning," Severus said softly, "is a very complicated thing to determine. I suppose it begins with Bella's use of Cara."

/-/

Sirius sat with a man from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, tapping the table, bored. He hoped he looked more bored than he felt, because his anxiety was beginning to creep in. They were bound to ask about his wife, and he had to give an answer. Severus had provided him with an answer, but what if they didn't believe it?

"Tell me, Mr. Black," the man said, "where was your wife during this portion of the night you have described?"

"I took my wife home early," Sirius said, flicking hair out of his eye. "She wasn't feeling well. We suspect she may be pregnant."

"Congratulations," the man said, not looking at Sirius, his voice holding absolutely no expression or sincerity. "Can anyone corroborate this?"

"Severus Snape," Sirius said, folding his hands. "We told him before I took her home. He's the one who called me back to help."

"And how long have you been spying for Albus Dumbledore?" the man asked, as though nothing could possibly matter to him less.

"Since the day I rejoined this useless society, mate. Can I go?"

"You've been vouched." The man narrowed his eyes. "Apparently you're clear."

Sirius rolled his eyes, walking out of the study, joining Severus and Rabastan. It was Severus's turn next, and he nodded to Sirius who nodded back before being called into the study.

"Sirius," Dumbledore said, touching Sirius's shoulder, "you should also know that Lily has had the baby. When the questioning is done and you've had a chance to speak with your family, Alastor will take you both there."

The world seemed to be moving so quickly, and Sirius didn't know how to slow it down. He agreed that that would be fine, and he checked his watch, knowing he had to deal with his family, and soon.

When Dumbledore got Sirius cleared to leave the premises, Rabastan walked him out to the gates.

"I'll visit Narcissa," Rabastan said softly. "Sirius, tell me something."

"Hmm?"

"Did you actually kill your brother?"

Sirius rubbed his forehead, recalling with perfect clarity the sight of Regulus's corpse on the floor.

"No," he said. "But I did destroy the body. He died in Dumbledore's service, and that's all that matters."

"And Crouch?"

Sirius simply raised an eyebrow, drew his wand, and said, "Give Cissy my love," before he Disapparated.

/-/

After explaining matters to his mother, Sirius capped off the discussion with his good news.

"Cara's pregnant."

All the confusion and disappointment melted from his mother's face at these words and he said, "She doesn't actually know yet. We tested her when she…fainted last night. I'm going to go and wake her now, to tell her." He hesitated. "Perhaps you can arrange some dietary changes with Kreacher? You know more about that sort of thing than I do."

With his mother jumping into action and out of the way, Sirius went to his bedroom, looking at Cara, sleeping so peacefully, completely unaware of all the chaos that was going on in the world around her. He smiled, sitting on the bed beside her, placing his hand on her abdomen, astonished that it felt just as it always did. With a baby growing inside it, surely it should feel changed.

He sighed, pulled out his wand, knowing he couldn't put off the inevitable any longer.

" _Ennervate_."

Her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes, blinked open, and she looked up, puzzled, before she began to remember. She sat upright, horrified, and grabbed Sirius's arm.

"The Dark Lord," she said, beginning to tremble.

"Relax," he said, brushing his fingers on her cheek gently. "Relax, darling. He's gone. You killed him. He's gone. I'm alright, and you're not going to be questioned. Bella is dead, and as far as the officials are concerned, she killed him and he killed her. Now, Severus and Rabastan and I are saying that you weren't feeling well, so I took you home." Cara nodded her understanding, and he smiled, unable to contain his pride.

"Love, there's something else."

"Hmm?"

"Severus…he tested you. You're…you're pregnant."

Her eyes narrowed briefly as she tried to understand what he said, and then they widened dramatically as she comprehended the words. She touched her stomach, trembling.

"You're sure?"

"Positive," he said, kissing her nose. "And Mad-Eye's dropping by later. Lily and James had the baby, and he's going to take us to see them when they lift the charm on their house. We'll be able to see them whenever we want now."

Cara closed her eyes, leaning back, pulling him with her. Sirius didn't bother kicking off his shoes before climbing onto the bed beside her, kissing her chin.

"I love you," she said, running her fingers through his hair as he pressed kisses to her chin, "but right now I'm afraid."

He pressed several kisses up her jaw to her ear before he whispered, "It will pass, love. And everything is going to be alright."

 **A/N: THIS is actually the bonus chapter because last night whilst I was sleeping Missing Triforce popped y'all into the 10 review mark for the week. SO. This means two things. One: I'm about to edit and post the LAST chapter of the story. Two: I'm also about to edit and post the FIRST chapter of the sequel!**

 **Everybody shriek with joy, you know you want to.**

 **Review Prompt: What's your greatest wish for the sequel?**

 **-C**


	34. Three Weeks Later

**Three weeks later…**

Cara nodded, putting the finishing touch on the nursery.

"I think he'd like it," Sirius said, watching her move the crib to the center of the room. "Thank you for letting me use his room for this."

"It was always ever going to be your choice, love," she said, smiling at Sirius. "Whatever you said, Regulus's room was always going to be your choice." She held out her arms and he pulled her into a hug before touching her abdomen happily. "D'you think she'll like it?"

"She'll love it, darling," he said, kissing her eyebrows. "We've got to change or we'll be late."

/-/

Sirius folded the program again and again until Cara yanked it from his hands and unfolded it. How did she stay so serene with all that was happening? Wasn't she as anxious, as aggravated as he was?

The trouble with honoring the victims and fighters, Sirius thought, was that by giving people the Order of Merlin they had to rank and classify some people's sacrifices as more important, more difficult, more painful than those of others. In his eyes, it was all so arbitrary.

"First," the Minister said, with the audience listening attentively to this specially called ceremony. "First we honor those who have received the Order of Merlin, Third Class."

Sirius scratched his wrist, waiting anxiously. The sooner this was over, the sooner they could all move on with their lives.

"Aberforth Dumbledore." Applause. "Arabella Figg." Applause. "Rubeus Hagrid." More applause, and a slight creaking of the stage as the rather large man tried to not break the whole thing. "Rabastan Lestrange." Applause "Emmeline Vance." More applause.

The stage was cleared and Sirius scratched his nose, ignoring Cara as she rolled her eyes at him. He was still uncomfortable with Rabastan getting an Order of Merlin, but Cara didn't seem to mind.

"Now, the Order of Merlin, Second Class. Edgar Bones. Dedalus Diggle. Elphias Doge. Benjy Fenwick, posthumously. Frank Longbottom. Alice Longbottom. Minerva McGonagall. Marlene McKinnon, posthumously. Sturgis Podmore. James Potter. Lily Potter. Andromeda Tonks."

Sirius applauded from his wife's prodding, not that he wasn't proud of his friends, but that he thought the whole affair was a watering down of their deeds and the award, both.

"And lastly, the Order of Merlin, First Class." Sirius felt his body tense, and he touched Cara's hand lovingly.

"Cara Black."

She took to the stage gracefully, with her somehow commanding humility, and Sirius watched her steps with pride as the Order of Merlin was handed to her. They didn't even know the half of what she'd done.

"Regulus Black, posthumously. Sirius Black."

He joined his wife, taking the Order of Merlin, feeling its cool weight in his hands. It was all so meaningless. They had a child coming, rebuilding to do. What good was it to put a bronze stamp of approval on the past?

"Caradoc Dearborn, posthumously. Albus Dumbledore." Never mind that Dumbledore already had one, Sirius thought, amused. "Remus Lupin. Narcissa Malfoy. Dorcas Meadows. Alastor Moody. Gideon Prewett. Fabian Prewett. Severus Snape."

Sirius stifled a yawn as the applause thundered and everyone was dismissed to mingle. He held on tight to Cara, and stayed just as long as he could before whispering in her ear that he wanted to go. She didn't argue. Cara knew, understood, how much Sirius wanted to hide from the public eye.

They parted from Lily and James and Remus with brief words, and Sirius took his wife back to Grimmauld Place.

/-/

Sunlight streaming through the windows could almost make Lily believe that nothing terrible had ever happened. James was humming in the kitchen as he made sandwiches for lunch. Harry was sleeping in his cot. Lily had already gotten job offers from several places, including one at St. Mungo's that she was strongly considering taking. James already said that as far as he was concerned, he was going to be a stay-at-home father, and she was going to work, if that was what she wanted.

Lily was relieved, because this was exactly what she wanted, but she'd been nervous to make the assumption that James wouldn't want to work, and they didn't have any family to leave Harry with if they were both on shift.

There was a tentative knock on the front door, and for a brief moment Lily thought it might be Cara, but there was something not quite right with that idea. She thought about answering with her wand out, but Dumbledore told her to get out of the habit of pulling her wand all the time.

The war was over.

Not that she shouldn't still be careful, but there was careful and there was Mad-Eye Moody.

It was Severus at the door, and she was almost confused when he looked at her, his jaw twitching, his hands hidden behind his back.

"Sev," she said, glancing back into the house. James had been horrified to learn that Sirius and Severus were on speaking terms, almost on a first-name basis. What would he say if he could see Severus standing here on their front step? "Come on in."

He followed her in, but he was nervous. His back was rigid, his shoulders stiff.

"I wanted to apologize," he said. "For…for what I said to you all those years ago. It wasn't about you, and it wasn't really about them. It was about…."

He shrugged, but she understood. It was about his father, his parents, and the mess of a home life he had at Spinner's End. Lily nodded.

"James?" she called. "Get out here and be civil."

Her husband poked his head out of the kitchen door curiously, and his eyes widened at the site of Severus, who became even more rigid at the mention of James. Still, if Severus was going to be any part of their lives, he was going to properly be part of their lives, with all the hatchets buried.

"Get out here," Lily said sternly to her husband, who crept out as though any sudden moves would provoke an attack. "Now, considering the fact that we all fought on the same side and the war is over, I don't expect you to be the best of friends, but I do expect the two of you to shake hands and be civil." She raised an eyebrow at her husband, who was turning pale. "If Sirius can do it, James, so can you."

James bobbed up and down on the balls of his feet a couple of times before he wilted under her gaze and dragged himself forward. He raised his hand, and Severus frowned at it for a few moments before taking it. Perhaps it was the shortest handshake in the history of handshakes, but it had happened, and as far as Lily was concerned, that was all that was needed for a first step.

"Now," she said, smiling at Severus, "would you like to meet Harry?"

/-/

Andromeda felt a bit dizzy as she pressed her hand to the gate to the Wiltshire manor, her sister's home. It was the first time she had been welcomed to any pureblood home since her Uncle Alphard passed away, and she had a feeling that Lucius wasn't especially pleased to have her in his house.

Sirius greeted her at the gate, pulling her into a firm hug, kissing her cheek. He still had the signs of war about him, a little thinner than he should have been, dark circles under slightly hollow eyes, but he was starting to get his sparkle back, starting to leave behind the memories of the horrors he had witness and most likely enacted. Andromeda wouldn't dare ask him, but she couldn't help but wonder how life was different now, how his view of the world had changed.

"We're all inside, waiting," he said, kissing her hand. "Come on, I want you and my wife to be friends."

The pair went into the manor, to the sitting room, where Narcissa was pouring tea. Cara was holding a small, pale child, a handful of months old, very obviously Draco, and Rabastan and Lucius were sitting stiffly, as was their wont, between the two women.

"Dromeda!" Narcissa said in her gracious, hostess manner, crossing to kiss her sister on the cheek. "This is my son, obviously. Little Draco. And you've met my husband, and our brother-in-law, Rabastan."

Andromeda nodded to both men, who seemed uncertain how to greet her after everything they had been through. She was glad neither kissed her hand. She wouldn't want them to bother.

Especially after learning of the death of her sister, and the circumstances of that death, Andromeda had felt a bit uncomfortable about this reunion, this meeting of Draco and Cara. In a way, they were all family now, with all of them related by blood or by marriage, but these people were strangers to her. Apart from Sirius and Narcissa – and yet in some ways especially the pair of them – all her interactions with these people would be veneers, not speaking of the things that meant the most, because those wounds were a too-painful past that no one wanted to dig back open again.

"And this is my wife," Sirius said proudly as Cara passed Draco back to his mother, "Cara Black."

Cara had the look of a blend between Lestrange and Selwyn. Her dark hair, her well-structured face, her soft brown eyes…. Andromeda could easily see what Sirius had been attracted to in this women, not least of all in the way that Cara's shoulders seemed to at once proclaim self-assuredness and humility. Of course, the horrors the girl had to endure to gain such a dichotomy couldn't be wished on anyone, but the past was in the past, of course.

So Andromeda had to keep reminding herself.

"I've heard you are expecting," Andromeda said, shaking Cara's graceful hand. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," Cara said, her voice smooth and surprisingly small. "We're very pleased."

Andromeda bit back her quip, her comment that it was good that someone was pleased to be having a child, that someone seemed to be happily in love. Narcissa and Lucius were fighting, as could easily be seen in the way they held hands, and Andromeda wondered if it had to do with Narcissa's work against Voldemort, or some small thing that would blow over.

"Are you living in Lestrange Manor still, Rabastan?" Andromeda asked when she was passed a cup.

She had nothing else to ask the man. They had never been close.

"Actually," Cara said, smiling, "that's been a bit of an interesting story. Obviously, Rudolphus is still the owner of the manor, and he has revoked Rabastan's privileges to live there for his treachery against the family or some such rubbish. When he dies, it will go to Rabastan, but in the meantime, I'm giving him the right to live in Selwyn Manor."

Andromeda raised a questioning eyebrow, not following. Sirius smirked, lacing his fingers in his wife's and kissing Cara's nose before saying, "Madam Selwyn passed last week. Since there were no other Selwyns surviving the war, the whole of the family wealth goes to Cara, since she's legally a Selwyn. And since Rabastan's about to propose, he has to have somewhere to live. After all the hard work we've put in on making Grimmauld Place somewhere worth living, there wasn't any rush to move, so Rabastan is welcome to it until his own manor comes to him, and then we'll probably use it seasonally."

"Proposing?" Narcissa squeaked. "You're proposing to her?" Then her eyes widened and she turned to Andromeda quickly and said, "He's been courting the younger Greengrass daughter. Do you remember her?"

"Delia, wasn't it?"

Andromeda was then treated to a long list of Delia Greengrass's many virtues from a love-sick Rabastan, and then Sirius told them about how Fabian Prewett finally proposed to Dorcas Meadows.

"I suspect they're going to elope," he said with a wink. "He said his sister would hate it, so the idea appeals to him."

They all laughed, except for Lucius, who seemed increasingly uncomfortable the longer the whole group sat and talked. Andromeda almost felt sorry for her brother-in-law, a man the world had passed by.

By the time she left, Andromeda was almost glad she'd left the family. There were people she would miss, but she realized now that when she was with them, she missed them far less. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all that. Perhaps there was more truth to that than she'd realized. Now that she could see them whenever she wanted, Andromeda wasn't really sure she wanted to.

/-/

Sunlight shone in through the high windows of Albus's office as Severus sat down, his sallow skin looking especially sallow in the brightness of the room.

"Thank you for coming to see me, Severus," Albus said.

The young man bowed his head slightly. He'd been given a great deal of time to think on the matter they were going to discuss, and while Albus hoped that Severus would be amenable to his offer, he would understand if some wounds were too deep to deal with.

"As I mentioned, I have filled a couple of staffing positions that were causing me concern," Albus said as Severus folded his hands in his lap. "Professor Binns has agreed that it is time to move on, and he is going to take this opportunity to study modern history, which he is a little behind on." Albus smiled with amusement.

Severus nodded sharply.

"I have asked Sirius to take on that course, and he has agreed. There are very few people who can make that class enticing enough for many students to continue past the Ordinary Wizarding Level, and I believe he might fit the bill."

Albus could see the tension in Severus's shoulders, and he was concerned that the next piece of news would be perceived as too much of an insult for someone as proud as Severus to take.

"Severus, I have decided at this time not to give you the Defense Against the Dark Arts post." The young man's jaw twitched but he nodded. "It is not that you would not be a great teacher of that subject, but I need you in Potions. You have ability there that is once in a generation. I have asked Remus Lupin to teach Defense, and he has accepted."

As expected, Severus's jaw clenched at this news, and Albus gave Severus some time to digest. He had already been told that should he not be pleased with the terms of continuing, Albus would release him from employment without any hard feelings. With the war over, circumstances were changed, and Severus was under no obligations to continue on the path that Voldemort had forced upon him.

After several minutes of silence, Severus said, wryly, "Tell me, have you merely forgotten to tell me that Minerva is retiring and James Potter is taking her position?"

Albus smiled and said, "No, as far as I am aware, Minerva is still planning to continue teaching, and James has told me that he is determined to care for their son while Lily works."

"She told me," Severus said, frowning slightly. "We…we talked this morning. I met with them, and I met their son. You…you delivered him."

"Yes," Albus said, smiling. "Born as the Dark Lord was dying. I expect that will be remembered in history, as Cara's contribution will go unknown, perhaps forever."

"Their child is healthy," Severus said, resting his hands on the table. "She is afraid, but I expect that she will be afraid every time."

"Oh?"

Severus smirked and said, "Do you honestly believe that Sirius Black, after having a child, will want to stop with one?"

Albus laughed, knowing that Severus was correct. Unlike so many marriages in the pureblood society, that Sirius and Cara were married for love – as well as extreme circumstances – allowed for many children, a happy home, and even outward affection beyond the cold proprieties.

"And what of you, Severus?" Albus asked. "Lily is for someone else, but you could still find someone."

Severus shrugged, obviously not comfortable with the discussion of his personal life. No doubt, Narcissa had already taken steps to find someone to marry him off to, but Albus decided not to press. If Severus was forced into finding someone, that would be the efforts of someone else, and Albus would only aid their conspiracies by forcing him to take time off when his friends arranged dates for him. But beyond that, prying was perhaps a poor way to convince Severus to stay.

"So you will be signing a new contract, Severus?"

The young man raised a black eyebrow as if to suggest that the question was a redundant one, but Albus was pleased, just the same. Perhaps, with time, Severus and the remainders of the so-called Marauders would learn to not only respect each other, but how to be friends.

"I will ask," Albus said, "that when Remus is unable to teach due to his health, that you and Sirius take on extra responsibilities where possible to cover his classes. So you will have some time teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts."

Severus nodded at this, but Albus knew that he was not simply acknowledging, but rather that he was pleased to know that he would have some need, some responsibility in his favorite subject.

"A contract will be drawn up this week, Severus," Albus said, standing with the young man. "I will have it delivered to you soon. If there is nothing further you wish to discuss with me…?"

There was not, as it happened, and so Severus left Albus alone in his office, sitting in his chair as he had done during the war, before the war, and now after the war, admiring the way the sunlight danced across the bright and brilliant things that littered his desk.

"She's an interesting woman," the voice of Phineas Nigellus said from above Albus. "Perhaps Sirius will not amount to nothing after all."

"His is continuing the family name, Phineas," Albus said softly, "and he and Cara are doing it with bravery, compassion, and love. I think that is a great deal to have amounted to."

Phineas sniffed, but Albus ignored him, closing his eyes and enjoying a brief moment of rest before the next puzzle presented itself.

 **A/N: Hello! End of Part One and all that. I've already posted the first chapter of the sequel, titled** _ **Unknowns, Part the Second**_ **. Should be easy enough to find. ;) Officially, it's a Harry/OC, rated M. I hope you all enjoy it very much.**

 **It's been a pleasure and a privilege to post this story for you all, and I hope you all join me as it moves forward to the next generation.**

 **Review Prompt: On a scale of one to comatose, how longsuffering would you say Severus is being, and on whose behalf?**

 **-C**


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